Shining a light

For the past several years (a global pandemic, notwithstanding) I’ve been pursuing a personal project on “faith and rituals”.
I’m not entirely certain what form this project will take in future, and I’m not sure how I’ll make it more focused and specific (I know I need to do that), but a photographer friend once told me with photo essays it’s often best to just start out making pictures you like and let the direction come after some work has been done.

The wisdom of this has started to really be clear to me lately, specifically with two recent events from two different faith communities sharing a common theme.
At the beginning of November I made my way to a small North End temple for the Hindu festival of Diwali. Despite feeling very conspicuous with both my cameras and my obvious non-Hindu status, the people were warm and welcoming and I discreetly observed and (occasionally) made an image.
A month later, the city’s Jewish community gave me an equally welcoming reception for the 8-day festival of Hanukkah. Both the Etz Chayim and the Chabad-Lubavitch were kind enough to answer my questions and support my project efforts and, as with all the faith communities I’ve visited for this work, I was reminded how rich and varied our city actually is — there’s a lot going on beyond our habitual day-to-day surroundings and I’m blessed to have photography allow me to witness that first-hand.

I was also struck by the similarities in different religions and how common visual elements keep coming up, as I photograph more and more for this work. In the case of these two festivals, the element is light — both events are festivals of light, as a symbol of transcendence and expressed in literal form.
Happily, photography is all about light and so it felt fitting to show both of these festivals and what they have in common. L’Chaim and Namaste!

Diwali

Second night of Hanukkah

Diwali

Seventh night of Hanukkah

Diwali

Seventh night of Hanukkah

Diwali

Casual Fridays

Winnipeg has always been known for a thriving music and arts scene, but it’s only very recently that we’ve been able to start returning to that again. The pandemic, and most people and businesses adhering to lockdowns and other measures to prevent the spread of it, had put a night out on ice for well over a year.

Happily, high vaccination rates and businesses having a credible process to screen at the door have created a bit of a springtime in late autumn for live music.

It was this that allowed me to photograph a live performance this weekend by the newest jazz group in the city, the Jazz Casuals. It was a terrific way to end off a very long week, and the fine offerings by the venue, Little Brown Jug, was also very welcome.

Walking into the venue, I was greeted by a terrific space but a terrific space in near-total darkness. Certainly great for ambience, but not so great for photography! It was then that I was reminded of the difference between photographers who know lighting and those that don’t. One gets useable pictures, the other walks away with excuses.

I spent a lot of years in newspapers, and had the mantra of ‘available light’ drummed into me for literally decades.
However, if you believe photography is about telling stories, I’m afraid you can’t tell very many when you’re literally in the dark.

We live in a pretty amazing time for technology in making photographs, and one of my favourite is the advantages in lighting now. I’ve been a very satisfied user of Godox flashes for a few years now, both for reliability and how quick and easy it is to use their lights. Having something quick, easy and reliable makes it so much easier to just focus on creativity and that’s certainly been the case for me, whether in a dark jazz club or a bright outdoor location.

Setting up 2 small lights unobtrusively allowed me to create a mood and a feeling that fit the story, and not interfere with the musicians working or the audience enjoying the show. And, I didn’t have to make excuses — win/win/win!

Follow the Jazz Casuals on Instagram for news of upcoming shows.

Walking The Path at the 'Heart of the Continent'

The final day of September this year marked the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, a new federal statutory holiday to honour children who died while attending residential schools in Canada, along with the survivors, families and communities still feeling the reverberations of that long-running system.

Here in Winnipeg, several events were held for citizens including a powwow, sacred fires and several rallies and marches.

I had the good fortune to photograph the main march, which began at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights and ended at St. John’s Park. From start to end, there was a positivity in the air (even given the many hard and solemn stories to be told) and a real sense of solidarity. There was no mistake about why all were there and who they were there for.
It was also an ideal chance to meet someone or talk to someone you might not normally get the opportunity to. And a simple conversation is a terrific way to learn more.

I’ve always found photography is my ideal way to learn and connect with the world. For this, I was fortunate to experience this first annual event with my cameras. I sense a real shift in public attitudes and awareness, and I feel safe in saying the country is changing permanently from this process.

On a related note: if you or someone you know see yourself in my images, please reach out — I’d be happy to share them with you as a way of saying thanks. I asked each person portrayed here if I could photograph them, but in the rush of the event I didn’t get any contact information, as I normally do in case someone wants a copy of my work for themselves.

People attending a march in the inaugural Truth and Reconciliation Day stream through Winnipeg’s iconic Portage and Main intersection, Thursday afternoon.

People gathered for a march in the first Truth and Reconciliation Day in Winnipeg leave the city’s Human Rights Museum to the city’s downtown. Some held pictures of relatives or loved ones who attended Indian residential schools.

Riley Brown, an Oji-Cree woman from Manitou Rapids First Nation, wears a shawl adorned with handprints of her classmates at Urban Circle Training Centre. She told CBC News she was dancing in the march for missing and murdered indigenous women and girls, residential school survivors and those who did not survive their time in the schools.

An elder smiles as she awaits the start of a march for this country’s inaugural Truth and Reconciliation Day, Thursday morning at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights.

Thousands of people gathered at the Forks in the centre of the city for the start of a march, as part of Canada’s national Truth and Reconciliation Day. An orange shirt is a symbol of the issue of residential school survivors.

‘Every Child Matters’ is a slogan that has grown out of the increasing national awareness of the issue of residential schools in Canada.

Thousands of people await the start of a march while taking part in national Truth and Reconciliation Day events in Winnipeg, Thursday morning. They almost universally wore orange, making a striking sight as they walked together through the city.

A group of drummers make their way along North Main Street among thousands of others, on their way to a powwow at St. John’s Park, one of the original parks in the city and long a gathering place for First Nations and European people.

A participant in Thursday’s rally spreads her spirit to people sitting in front of the Main Street Project in Winnipeg.

A woman watching a procession for the first Truth and Reconciliation Day raises her arms as thousands of people walk past on North Main Street.

North Main Street, first National Day of Truth and Reconciliation, Winnipeg Manitoba.

The grand entry to a powwow held in St. John’s Park makes its way past a capacity crowd gathered for festivities at the first National Day of Truth and Reconciliation in Winnipeg.

Young dancers join a long line of people of all kinds for the grand entry to a powwow held at the end of a march for Truth and Reconciliation Day in Winnipeg.

This year has seen a lot of opportunities to look up and find a picture, or just a sense of wonder (usually both, for me). Whether it’s been the Aurora Borealis or meteor showers or spectacular sundogs there are so many opportunities in 2021, and I’ve probably photographed the sky more in the past 6 months than I have in the past 6 years.

Part of that is from the pandemic erasing many of the people-centred photography I was doing previously. A lot of it is freeing up more time to be able to wander and wonder and focus on the natural environment.

I’ve seen a lot of Milky Way photographs this year, and it fired up the desire to do it again myself. The one and only time I’d photographed our galaxy was a few years ago during an epic night at a dark sky preserve, in Cape St. Mary bird sanctuary in Newfoundland. This weekend, a night with a new moon (preventing any light pollution from obscuring faint stars), a clear cloudless night and no work commitments the next day meant the time was right to try again!

A quick online search for dark sky areas in Manitoba turned up Spruce Woods Provincial Park. I knew of this park for its near-desert conditions and sand dunes, but wasn’t aware of its status among sky-watchers. Despite the 2-hour drive (each way) all doubts were erased the second I got out of my car and looked up. The star-scape was absolutely breath-taking! There really is no substitute for a complete lack of light pollution — the best camera, lenses or software won’t make up for the night sky being obscured.

This really is the most vital step — finding as dark a sky as possible. This can be as simple as a quick Google search, but don’t think that a quick half-hour drive away from a city will do it — if you’re photographing infinity a few kilometres won’t change a thing. Prep yourself for a few hours drive, and keep in mind that light pollution can also come from the sun. Depending on the time of the year, ‘true’ night won’t come until well after sundown and well before sunrise. (Right about now, true night comes after midnight until about 3 a.m., with the pictures you see here being taken from 1-2 a.m.)

A wide angle lens to cover a great expanse of sky is a must, but equally important is how much light it can gather. An aperture of f/1.4 or f/2 is ideal and help prevent the need to crank up your ISO to noisy extremes.
Don’t forget the flipside to your aperture: your shutter speed. A wider aperture allows a ‘faster’ shutter speed. Anything longer than about 25 seconds will introduce ‘trailing’ to the stars, from the earth’s rotation. So, try keep your time to about 20 seconds maximum.

If you’re curious to try your hand at photographing our galaxy, a little time spent researching ahead of time will save you a lot longer time dealing with potentially serious problems in the field later. Find a dark sky area and prepare yourself for working there in total darkness! Things like bug spray, a flashlight (having a red filter or red light will help you see but not ruin your night vision) and measures to stay safe among wildlife, if applicable (for example, keeping safe among black bear populations is a common issue in Manitoba parks) will go a long way to having a positive experience.

Good luck! Look up in wonder!

The Milky Way rises in the south sky above Marsh Lake, in Manitoba’s Spruce Woods Provincial Park. Adding a foreground element can add visual interest to your composition, and a very valuable sense of perspective.

A horizontal composition - and let’s be honest, a lot of luck in timing - allowed me to include some of the many fireflies blinking in the air around me during this photo session. A long 20-second exposure recorded them as the green wavy lines to the right.

I turned my camera away from the south, where the Milky Way was, towards the east where the earthly elements made a pleasing (to my eye) composition. I liked seeing the vast fields of stars and the different mood this represented. There is almost no enhancement to the colour balance on this and all shots presented here.

This slightly-surreal scene is an example of thinking and acting quickly to the unexpected during a photo shoot. Despite the late hour (2 a.m.) the occasional car drove past on a nearby road, and I noticed that when they did, their headlights lit up a few trees along this marshy lake. When I heard another car approach far off in the distance, I knew this lighting would repeat itself — sure enough, once I set my camera to this view the trees slowly lit up with a ghostly light and my timing ensured the actual car and headlights hadn’t intruded onto the scene yet. The result was an ambiguous scene with a vague sense of mystery — a picture of a mood or a feeling more than what was actually there.

A Very Different Canada Day

Back when photographing for a daily newspaper, Canada Day was usually pretty straightforward: lots of Maple Leaf flags, maybe some citizenship ceremonies and one of the few chances to photograph a fireworks show.

This year, though, a long pandemic and record-setting heat-waves gave way to the horrific confirmation of something long whispered but never really faced up to in Canada — the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands of children in church and government run residential schools for First Nations children.

It has completely overshadowed any thought of observing the day, and hopefully it can be more an occasion of thoughtful introspection.

I thought I would take this thought in mind as I went to see a few places for myself today. Not with any preconceived ideas but just to see for myself and leave my thoughts open, as they can only be from a good long walk.
I went to the Forks, a place where rivers have met for millennia and people have also met for almost as long. And I ended the day seeing for myself the provincial Legislature, where a statue of Queen Victoria was toppled by a crowd at the end of a march to mark the coming to light this year of what most First Nations have known for a long time.

Lawrence Cormiere pauses on his walk to Portage and Main in Winnipeg to take part in a rally about hundreds of graves found at sites of former residential schools. Cormiere said he too attended one of the schools as a youth.

A statue of Queen Victoria lies on the ground at the Manitoba Legislature, Thursday evening July 1, 2021.

Flags representing young children who suffered and perished at residential schools in Canada dot the front lawn of the Manitoba Legislature, Thursday evening July 1, 2021.

A man takes a selfie atop a statue of Queen Victoria in front of the Manitoba Legislature, Thursday evening July 1, 2021.

Blessings in the time of Covid

Several years ago, I started a personal project on rituals — acts of faith unique to a religion or faith community that have a tradition going back centuries or more. It was a rewarding idea and the more I worked on it, the more I was convinced it was a solid pursuit. And beyond that, it was something I got a lot of personal fulfillment out of - I was fortunate to witness moments I couldn’t have predicted or imagined and met a lot of new people.

And then Covid-19 happened.

Almost overnight, most faith centres closed in order to limit the spread of an airborne contagion (something a few people seem to have difficulty understanding) and my idea that slowly but surely began to gain momentum ended abruptly.

But as people begin to find their way through this uncertain time, some organizations figure out how to exercise their faith in ways to keep everyone as safe as possible. One example of this was the annual ritual in the Ukrainian Orthodox faith of the blessing of the Easter baskets, and how the faithful in the Ukrainian Orthodox Metropolitan Cathedral of Sts. Vladimir and Olga made it happen in 2021.

Taking advantage of a beautiful spring day, they held the service outdoors, kept everyone well distanced and had people cycle through quickly so as not to linger. It was a heartfelt display of faith, and a quietly dignified rebuke to those who’ve used religion as a ruse to ignore the reality of public health measures.

On a personal note, it felt good after over a year to be making photographs for this project again. It very likely will be a long time before this project can be picked up again in any substantive, consistent way. But for one beautiful spring day, new images were being made and the idea lived on.

Father Ihor Shved sprinkles holy water upon the Easter baskets brought by sisters Ruslana and Svetlana Kashyna, during a special Covid-compliant service of the ‘Blessing of the Baskets’, a highly of the Orthodox calendar.

Volunteers helped create a makeshift altar and worship area outside the North End cathedral, including the iconic Easter eggs so closely associated with Ukrainian culture.

Father Ihor Shved tests a webcam set up to bring the service to faithful in their homes. The web savvy is one adaptation many churches are making to the health measures needed to keep their communities healthy.

After the basket ceremony outside, attendees could make a brief visit to the altar to round out their Easter observances.

Goddesses, Dragons and Ancestors

This past month has seen a lot of different photography for me, from portraits to street to even wildlife (OK, pelicans), but I’m returning to the topic of Northern Lights because…well, because magic doesn’t happen very often.

And that’s the only way to describe looking up and seeing the sky dance with softly glowing colours, in the kind of soft comforting silence you can only get from true solitude.

The aurora borealis is a result of solar radiation interacting with the Earth’s upper atmosphere — think of what happens to a neon bulb when you run electricity through it — but standing beneath it, it’s hard to reduce it to just that. There are a lot of legends surrounding the Northern Lights — from goddesses ushering in a new day, to dragons battling for good and evil and (most poetically, to me) the First Nations of North America seeing them as echoes of departed people moving and speaking to them in the infinity of the sky.

My latest aurora encounter began after a long day working. From the numbers coming in on solar activity, and an admin on a Facebook group far more versed in crunching the data, it looked like Friday night/Saturday morning would offer very good chances for spotting the Lights. Happily, the clouds and cold of recent days had departed and it looked ideal for trying one’s luck.
With that, I set out around midnight for a 2 hour drive away from the light pollution - and unfortunately increasing crowds - of the city. Several times I stopped by the side of a highway to gaze at the lights which already had made an appearance…I knew I’d made the right decision despite being on Hour 17 without sleep.

Pulling into my destination all weariness and doubt immediately fell away, as how right my choice was dazzled the sky overhead. Far from being confined low to the horizon, these lights were far brighter and covered at least half the sky. Like I said: magic!

Our sun is currently entering into an active phase of its regular cycle, so there’s a good chance these displays will return. My humble advice, if you want to witness them for yourself: approach them reverently and with respect and take the time to let it unfold. Aurora are unpredictable - they may show up early, or not until late into the night, and they may dance for hours, or minutes.
Set aside more time than you originally planned. It’s rare that we get an opportunity to sit in silence, with no demand to ‘do’ something or justify our time. Make the most of it!

The hot new activity of late winter/early spring in Manitoba (for better or worse) is aurora-spotting, thanks to an upswing in solar activity. The Northern Lights are notoriously fickle — one night they appear, the next they don’t and there’s no set time when they ‘usually’ show up. Forecasting is vague, but maybe it’s all these factors that make it so magical when it finally does appear before your eyes.

True to their name, the further north you go the more visible they become. Near the capital city down south, they are usually a glowing line on the horizon, but occasionally the output from solar flares or sunspots is high enough that shimmering bands of green and violet can appear overhead. Regardless, moving as far from city lights and its attendant light pollution will only make it easier to see, with the happy benefit of seeing just how many stars do fill the inky black night sky.
Happily, the regular cycle of our sun is tracking upwards, so the months ahead should give more opportunities to see (and photograph) them yourself.

On that note, these images were made with a DSLR and a wide angle (24mm) lens, wide open at f/1.4 and 20 seconds. Depending on your focal length, any longer than 20-25 seconds and you’ll start to have the stars ‘trail’ or blur from the rotation of the Earth. Some photographers crank up their ISO to 6400 or above in order to get much shorter exposure times, or because their lenses don’t open up past f/2.8 or higher — that’s a (somewhat) viable option now that digital sensors are so much better, but I prefer to keep my ISO as low as possible.
Also keep in mind that ‘infinity’ focus on your lens doesn’t actually focus on infinity! Simply turning your lens all the way to the infinity setting will result in blurry stars. If you have Live View on your camera, turn it on, zoom in on a bright star and manually focus your lens until it’s sharp, then leave your focus where it is and shoot away.

Good luck!

The aurora borealis dances in the sky above the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg.

The red flashlight from a head lamp of fellow photographer leaves a trail during a long exposure. Red lights are used for night photography because they don’t ruin the photographer’s night vision.

A few aurora spotters watch silently beneath the lights, with the lights of nearby small towns and farms on the horizon.

I had thought the aurora had died down for the night, and was driving home when one look through my rear-view mirror showed they had flared back up again. Did I mention the Northern Lights are fickle and unpredictable?

Star trails made using the StarStax app (see previous blog post for details on the app).

As the world turns

I’ve never tried my hand at astrophotography, but recently I learned of a traditional Thai “spirit house” in rural Manitoba. This phenomenon is commonplace almost everywhere in Thailand, a devoutly Buddhist nation with a prior history of animism and spirit worship - but understandably rare in Manitoba.
Once I saw it for myself, though, I knew almost immediately that its juxtaposition with a faraway land and culture would best be expressed by a show of the Northern Lights with it. While the aurora did not make an appearance - yet - I did have a crystal-clear sky to work with and a perfect vantage point centering on Polaris, which would offer a focal point for my image.

Adding to the excitement was the fact Manitoba is currently in the grips of a brutal cold snap, and my set-up was done in temperatures of -40 degrees Celsius. It’s nothing proper clothing and preparation can’t handle, but it definitely made working slower and more challenging. As did hearing a pack of coyotes howling in the woods surrounding the site - something the resident sled dogs responded to in kind!

I’m happy with how the shot turned out - while I would have preferred a show of the Aurora I was lucky that a ‘radial’ type display of star trails could still be had with this unique cultural marker. On the technical side, I used a free program called Star StaX and combined 60 separate photographs (looking basically like the second shot here) to make the final lead image. I’d recommend this program, it’s easy and basically self-explanatory to use, does not downsize or reduce your final image, and did I mention it’s free? The third image gives a view of the app’s homepage; be sure to select the download that corresponds to your Mac’s current operating software.

The sun-dog days of winter

The sight of sun-dogs — parhelion for the meteorologists in the crowd — is a hallmark of bitterly cold days here. Caused most commonly by ice crystals suspended in clouds or floating freely in the air, these crystals act as prisms, bending light into a spectacular display in the sky when the conditions are right.

Wikipedia was kind enough to mention that sun-dogs can exist on other planets, too:

Mars might have sun dogs formed by both water-ice and CO2-ice. On the gas giant planets—Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune—other crystals form clouds of ammonia, methane, and other substances that can produce halos with four or more sun dogs.[8]

My work more commonly involves portraits, street photography and people in general — that obviously is on hiatus now with the lockdowns imposed by our provincial governments in grappling with the pandemic. But that leaves an opening to pursue different subjects and different pursuits with a camera, in my case the landscapes and places around our city. As long as you’re dressed for it, there’s a lot of beauty to be seen!

Road Trip America

Recently, I was backing up some hard drives and looking through some old DVD’s I’d copied files to — y’see kids, back in the old timey days we used drink coasters to store data on…it was a more innocent time.
Anyway, looking through digital files isn’t NEARLY as illuminating or serendipitous as actual prints or contact sheets, but there were some thought provoking surprises. Namely, some images from an old Canon point-and-shoot camera (remember kids, this was before we put those into our phones) of a month-long motorcycle trip looping through Montana and Wyoming, among other places.

The pictures that stood out for me were almost-casual, accidental photos, the photographic equivalent to doodling on a notepad while waiting on hold. With the passage of over 15 years (!) these images, which seemed throwaway at the time, take on a lot more resonance now.
Our view of the USA certainly has changed, and I wonder how many of the people I’d met back then would espouse some drastically different quirks, these days.

Apart from sharing some images I found interesting, what I hope to get across is to not take the here-and-now for granted — that the things you’d think someone weird for photographing (or, worse yet, attack them on social media) today mean something…and will only mean more once we’re removed from the distraction of the moment.
So, take a ton of photos. Print them ALL. And don’t lose them. Not on a phone, not on a hard drive or even a drink coaster.

Highway rest stop, Montana.

Bar and Grill; Cody, Wyoming.

Custom motorcycle; Devil’s Tower.

Saloon, Wyoming.

Window display, Montana.

Firetower Coffee House, 2005.

Frosty Reception

There’s a lot about winter to dislike - the bitter winds and cold, the lack of green and plants, the long dark nights. Which is why it’s more inspiring when a city finds a way to not just endure winter but enjoy it.
Over the years, Winnipeg has - piece by piece - found ways to really make our famous winters come alive and bring people together. It’s a lot easier to get outside and actually see what the season offers visually when there’s so much going on.

This week, unusually mild temperatures brought fog and mist, and the next morning the whole city was coated in beautiful hoarfrost. Seeing a frosted city was just too good to resist, and judging by local social media that day my choice was a popular one. Hopefully I found a few scenes not already documented on the #Winnipeg hashtag.
The warmth, and the hunger to get outside and active after a very stifled pandemic year, have made our rivers and parks much busier places.

The Saint Boniface Cathedral is seen across the Red River nestled in a forest of hoarfrost.

Skaters take to the ice on the Assiniboine River at The Forks in Winnipeg.

The gates of Saint Boniface Cemetery, gilded with frost, frame the historic Cathedral.

Skaters catch the sun at Assiniboine Park, with the Pavilion seen in the background left and a tobogganing run at right.

There’s a lot of competition for the title of “Winter Wonderland” this year, but one family in Wolseley has carved out a real front-runner on the Assiniboine River. It joins a grassroots-created network of skating and skiing trails and rinks in the area.

The ‘Roaring Game’ of curling has found a home on the Assiniboine between the neighbourhoods of Wolseley and River Heights.

A sundial sculpture, entitled “The Passage of Time” by artist Marcel Gosselin, is seen at The Forks in Winnipeg.

The Golden Boy

It’s not unusual for it to be bitterly cold in December in Winnipeg, but Christmas Day brought a very mild evening and that is unusual. Seeing a faint moon, I took a hunch and wondered if it would rise behind the topper to our Legislative Building, the one and only Golden Boy.
Despite forgetting my glasses and gloves in my rush to beat the sunset, I managed to get a few images of the slender border between day and dusk. For those who are able, the time just after sunset is really magical right now with the light display at the Legislative Building grounds and I highly recommend it.

Light Into Dark At Portage & Main

There are always impressive light displays on various homes this time of year - it’s a great way to overcome the much shorter daylight hours and put a bit of cheer into the cold of December - but it would be hard to top the show on this weekend at Winnipeg’s famed Portage & Main intersection.

The Fairmont Winnipeg hotel transformed its frontage into a multi-story Christmas tree - a photographer’s delight not only for the scale but also a welcome mild weekend left temperatures high enough to work comfortably with some night photography to capture it.

Also present nearby was a message of hope, literally, spelled out for all to see atop a downtown condo. I’ve actually seen this on a few other residential decorations too this week.

It’s been a rough year for many of us but it’s a lot of individual efforts like this that will, I think, turn things in a positive way for the most people.

PIVOT to a carbon-free economy

Recently I had a profound experience photographing Tabitha Langel, the lady who started Tall Grass Prairie Bakery for the National Film Board.
The NFB is working on a project called PIVOT, in partnership with McGill University to tell the stories of entrepreneurs who are pivoting to a zero-carbon economy. Not only did I get to see the efforts made by my favourite neighbourhood bakery - electric delivery car, locally sourced grains for their own mill, and more - but I benefitted from time generously given by a philosophical, spiritual person. There is just an undeniable aura of goodness around Tabitha.
As we sat together, making photographs, we talked and she shared with me that she has been near the Assiniboine River (seen behind her in the leading picture here) since she was 11 years old. It was the kind of conversation that happen in the best portrait sessions.
As a saying posted in the bakery says, “bread is never heavy on a long journey.”

Golden Hour in the North End

I once had a friend tell me a photographer is a person who takes more pictures on vacation than they do at their work.

This rung true to me (it’s certainly been true for my vacations) and I was reminded of it again this week as I shivered on the Arlington Street Bridge in the frosty air of pre-dawn, waiting for the sun to rise over the wide expanse of the railyards that are the boundary of sorts where the fabled North End begins.

I could have taken the day to sleep in, but I knew a clear sunrise was probably only going to happen this once, before the really cold temperatures arrived and all that waiting became a lot less tolerable. So, on a day free I actually woke up earlier…and I’m so glad I did.
The railyard is a basic industrial site and not what many would consider a ‘pretty’ landscape — but I knew there was something special there, and in the right light at the right time it was certainly pretty to me. Here’s hoping you can step out of ‘autopilot’ for even a moment and see the beauty in everyday life.

Living, and working, with purpose

Between social media, and how ubiquitous it’s become in our lives, and the isolation (physical and otherwise) of the Covid era, it’s increasingly common to know people and somehow never actually meet them.


This was the case with Oly Backstrom, whom I knew on Twitter but never met face-to-face. Happily that changed this weekend when we met in Winnipeg’s Exchange District. Gifted with a warm autumn day and a well-spaced patio we talked about my photography and his work with SCE Lifeworks, who dedicate themselves to helping connect employers with candidates with intellectual disabilities.

It’s noble work, and it reminded me that a life with meaning and purpose is one of the greatest gifts you can give a person. Oly is a person who can be proud to say what he does for a living, and know it’s meaningful work. Good to finally make it ‘real’, Oly!

Portrait Session with Aly Raposo

Recently I was contacted by Aly Raposo to help produce a collection of new portraits for her. Aly is the director of the Upside Down Tree, a philanthropic charity here in Winnipeg and she’s also one of those people who seems to have 100 things going at any time and does it all brilliantly.
It was apparent immediately that she brought a lot of bright, positive energy to her work and so with that in mind, I booked some time at a wonderful local studio, Cloakroom Wellness. Its big, bright airy spaces proved to be exactly the right space to work with Aly.

Lennard Taylor Design Studio

Shortly before business and most social interaction shut down, I approached an artist and business person I always admired here in Winnipeg, fashion designer Lennard Taylor.
In addition to achieving the rare feat of carving out a truly unique look to the art and business he put out into the world, what always caught my eye was his positivity and upbeat attitude - which he demonstrated again when I approached him about producing some portraits of him at his Exchange District studios.

Taylor also runs the beautiful photo and event studio, Cloakroom Wellness and it was an absolute delight to spend some time making photographs in its gorgeous light, high ceilings and wide open spaces.

Lennard is continuing his business responsibly and safely during this time, offering virtual consultations among other services. Check out details at his website or here for more information. Remember, now more than ever SUPPORT LOCAL!

A changed city

Like most photographers, I’ve had almost all previously scheduled work vanish, almost overnight. While there has been much more time spent at home, I do go out — keeping the recommended distance from others, not touching any surfaces if at all possible and cleaning myself and my gear thoroughly before and after — with a camera. This is an extraordinary time and there is a need to portray it now and for the future; there is also a reality that photography for me is a way to be human and mentally/spiritually healthy.

I recently spent an afternoon walking the downtown of this city, to see what the isolation policy looks like. A walk is an excellent time to think, relax and stay fit.

I urge everyone to get information on news of the pandemic, and ways to stay safe and healthy, from government sources only - this is too important to base decisions on the disinformation of social media!