I took this from inside the face of a clock.
I was visiting the Musee D’orsay in Paris, France when the gallery tour lead me to a dead end and the back of a massive clock. I’m not even sure if it worked. I never saw any moving pieces or mechanisms. I didn’t care what time it read.
Time seemed to stand still momentarily as I stood there staring at it.
My time in Europe was coming to an end. In less than a week, I’d have to give up my daily routine of exploring new cities and fly back home to Canada.
It didn’t matter. I was still standing in a foreign country, in an art museum, inside the face of giant clock. Somewhere that I’d never been before. Somewhere that I might never see again. I checked the time.
I was thankful.
Early fall 2016, I took this while hiking near the Vermillion River near Sudbury, Ontario, Canada.
I heard the roar of a million leaves. There were tracks in the dirt. I was all alone but I knew that something had been here before me. I walked for hours and all I heard was the wind. Through the trees, I saw a bird soaring through the sky. I thought about death. Could he see me? Could he sense my anticipation?
I kicked my feet up on the banks of a river. On the rocks, I smoked a cigarette. I contemplated the weight of my existence. The river didn’t give a shit about me. There were waves stretching back across time and space. I thought about life. How far can we see? Is there meaning in meaningless things?
I was hiking along a pole line near Val Caron, Ontario, Canada back in November of 2016. It was one of the first icy cold snowfalls of the year. The wind chill had dropped to below -20C and the clouds let loose a dusting a pearly white snow on the ground.
Baxter and I woke up extra early, just as the sun was rising. We dressed in layers and wrapped ourselves in scarves.
I had just started using my new camera and wanted to try it out on a hike. I wasn’t going to let a bit of cold weather stop me.
The sky was grey and the wind was fierce. We walked for almost 2 hours before turning back. One of the only good shots I took along the way was this close up of a hydro pole. It’s not really a spectacular shot, but I like the detail that the new lens captured. The image is still but there is still life.
Qi (energy) hugs Cee
There’s no better feeling than relaxing on a boat on a sunny autumn day. You can feel a cool chill in the air but you’re warmed by the brilliant rays of the sun. You can hear the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. Birds soaring through the open sky above.
Most of the time, I don’t even mind if I don’t catch any fish. It’s the feeling of being out on water, letting the waves rock me back forth that comforts me. It’s the fact that I am out in the middle of nature and have the time to close my eyes and take it all in.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
I took this shot from the top of a 200 ft tower crane at about 3 am in downtown Kitchener, Ontario, Canada.
One night, I just did it.
I got dressed in all black, walked the area several times, checking for security or other dirty hobos in the area that might cause a problem. After arguing with myself and almost backing out several times, I found the never, hopped through the fence and found my way to the base of the crane. There was a fence around it and a locked door, I almost turned back but I managed to find a spot where I could climb over the fence and onto the outside of the crane. Then, all I had to do was carefully climb around the corner and onto the platform inside.
At this point, I was already nervous as hell and my legs felt a little bit shaky, I was only maybe 20 feet up and still had a long way to go. I steadied my nerves and started up the first ladder. One rung at a time, I could feel the wind get stronger with every step. I had to shut my mind off and just focus on climbing. By the time I got to the top, I hadn’t noticed how high I’d gotten. I looked down and saw the cars and buildings dwarfed by the height below me. I had a brief flash of vertigo and had to hold onto the railing for a few minutes.
I relaxed. I looked around, took in the view and let go. I walked out onto the back of the crane and felt the wind cool my every pore.
I felt high.
I was high. The adrenaline pumping from my heart to the tips of my arms and my legs. My greatest fear shrunk. I felt alive.
There is a street sign not far from where I live. Its on the corner of Park St and Victoria St near downtown Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. I never really knew this but apparently if you follow Victoria St south and keep going far enough, you’ll find yourself in Los Angeles. Its only a mere 3970 Kilometers away. Keep on trucking, you’re almost there!
It was late into November of 2016. My sister and I decided that we wanted to take a hike to an old, abandoned work prison near Burwash, Ontario, Canada. The prison has been abandoned since the late 60’s and the only things remaining are warning signs and garbage, ghosts and graffiti.
Along our 12 kilometer walk, we had to follow around that passed through an active military base. We could hear guns off in the distance as soldiers practiced their trade. A few times, we even ran into a group of soldiers marching through the woods in full camouflage, rifles in hand.
We also ran into this tree. It was nearly completely covered in wooden plaques. Each plaque had a name engraved onto it. I still don’t know who the names belong to. My only guess could be that it’s the name of soldiers who’ve lost their lives. I read every name on the tree. I didn’t know any of them but their names still cross my mind from time to time.
Dogs are the most prominent hobos out there. When left to their own ambitions, they simply follow whatever they smell and wander in whatever direction it leads them. They are always looking for something new to piss on or somewhere new to roll around in the dirt. This picture is of Coda. Coda is my niece. My niece is a dog.