Headless Shellfish

Playing with a new concept of the Headless Shellfish Rides the Tea Bag… here’s a shot from that shoot…Cheers

Headless Shrimp Rides the Tea Bag

Headless Shrimp Rides the Tea Bag

MUHC Glen Site Employee’s Day

Just a few pictures taken during lunch at the Glen’s Employee’s day Lunch. Even Marc Graneau the Member of Parliament for the riding of Westmount—Ville-Marie since 2008 was there to speak. It was a lovely afternoon and it was very nice to see so many smiling faces that I knew from years gone by…Cheers to you all!

Burlesque Tea

For A Dawson Studio assignment we had to shoot a model and then make a composite by placing them on another background. After struggling with different background concepts I came up with this. More pictures will follow when I finish “extracting” my subject. A big thank you to Ruby Rhapsody a very talented Burlesque dancer, and of course Teny our make up artist. Thank you Bin Han, my studio partner for all your help.

Shellfish Love

a mini photo essay concerning shellfish love…or my love for shell fish…and for a certain women from the Ponta Delgado in the Azores, Portugal.

Palm Sunday At St.Bonifatius

This Sunday I was invited to photograph the Palm Sunday Mass at Saint Bonifatius, in Montreal. Here are some moments from this mornings family mass. Then there was delicious cake and coffee downstairs after the service. Be sure to drop by 3751 de-l’Hotel-de la Ville.

Christmas Recital at Maison Jesus-Marie, Longueuil,Quebec

This Christmas our family (my nieces and nephew) traveled to the Maison Jesus-Marie in Longueuil Quebec to sing for the elderly nuns who live there in residence. Many were teachers and highly esteemed in their respective fields. It was a special time in the spirit of giving and sharing one’s time. The sisters were overjoyed, especially interacting with the younger children who at one point handed out finger puppets and candies! At a couple of points during the recital those in the choir joined those in the audience and asked them to dance in whatever capacity they were able. In some cases they were wheeled in the wheelchairs as they moved their arms and sang. It was an incredible sight to behold…to hear the voices come together in community and see the smiling faces. These are the pictures I took during this special event.

Life Modeling

Yes, way back when, while living in Vancouver,BC, I used to drop my drawer’s for art! I had the Live Like Water Tea Shop in Chinatown just a few streets down from Basic Inquiry that had Life Modelling. My good friend and great artist David Lane modeled there. He thought I would also make for a good life model. And so one day I found myself modeling for Basic Inquiry. It was a lovely space, they have since moved) and they used to play CBC and at the time it was a program by Danielle Charboneau called Music for Awhile. I always enjoyed her show and her taste in music echo’s still like the pied piper that lead us into her show. Ah memories. Needless to say I enjoyed my experiences at Basic Inquiry and expanded to so many other places in Vancouver. Emily Carr University of Art and Design was one where I had fun. Some of my jobs were to in costume and so naturally being the Cultural Cross Dressed that I am I would come with my Korean Hambok and Monks clothing.

Here is a photo essay I put together. The photo’s were taken with my old Nikon Camera using Tri X Film later scanned. The pictures were taken at Basic Inquiry and Emily Carr University of Design and Art.

If Only They Told Me

Till Death Do Us Part

If only they told me
Right from the beginning
“they die you know
these people
to whom you attach your fondness
and they are even harder to detach
from your heart and mind”
we should be reminded daily
told over and over
like the warnings
on cigarette packages
love is addictive
avoid inhaling
because withdrawal
causes emotional attacks on the heart
for which there is no cure
but realization
comes with crisis
when we bury these loves
and they don’t decompose
in our lifetime.

Till Death Do Us Part

These Lips

These lips I kiss

Form after form
Somehow taste very familiar
Who is this evasive woman I seek?
So I can recite my lines
And engage in dialogue
And when I find
Her form full
That she cannot accommodate my content
Off I go searching
For another form
To fill with words
Tell me
Who writes this script?
Let me have a word with him
I need a cue
Tell me once and for all
To whom am I to speak
Confess these words of the heart
Who are we casting for the part?
I’m tired of rehearsing.

Like a Spider

I’ve unwrapped you
Like a spider does a fly
Stealing encounters
Taking advantage of the translucent web
That I’ve set
Between the moon and desire.
But now I sit in the middle
And call out
“Hey fly, won’t you come to me?
So I can eat you?”
It’s an offering that I want
You refuse.
So like an honest spider
I guess I will starve.

Pilgrimage To Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Grave

Many years ago I made a couple of pilgrimages to Fyodor Dostoevsky’s grave. In this series I only posted one photograph of his grave and a variety other pictures. Recently a good Russian friend of mine sent me this quote fromt he Brother’s Karamazov and so I would like to repost it here; as well as one of my favorite quotes The Idiot about living each minute to the fullest. Enjoy.

“You see, stupid as I am, I still keep thinking about it, I keep thinking, every once in a while, of course, not all the time. Surely it’s impossible, I think, that the devils will forget to drag me down to their place with their hooks when I die. And then I think: hooks? Where do they get them? What are they made of? Iron? Where do they forge them? Have they got some kind of factory down there? You know, in the monastery the monks probably believe there’s a ceiling in hell, for instance. Now me, I’m ready to believe in hell, only there shouldn’t be any ceiling; that would be, as it were, more refined, more enlightened, more Lutheran, in other words. Does it really make any difference–with a ceiling or without a ceiling? But that’s what the damned question is all about! Because if there’s no ceiling, then there are no hooks. And if there are no hooks, the whole thing falls apart, which, again, is unlikely, because then who will drag me down with hooks, because if they don’t drag me down, what then, and where is there any justice in the world? Il faudrait les inventer, those hooks, just for me, for me alone. Because you have no idea, Alyosha, what a stinker I am…!”

“No, there are no hooks there,” Alyosha said quietly and seriously, studying his father.”Yes, yes. Only shadows of hooks. I know, I know.”–The Brothers Karamazov (tr Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky)

Fyodor Dostoevsky’s,The Idiot
Part one chapter 5
Translated by: Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky
First Vintage Classics edition July 2003

“He was dying at the age of twenty-seven, healthy and strong; bidding farewell to his comrades, … There was a was a church nearby, and the top of the cathedral with its gilded dome shone in the bright sun. He remembered gazing with terrible fixity at that dome and the rays shinning from it: it seemed to him that those rays were his new nature and in three minutes he would somehow merge with them…The ignorance of and loathing for this new thing that would be and would come presently were terrible; yet he said nothing was more oppressive than for him than the constant thought: “What if I were not to die! What if life were given back to me – what infinity! And it would all be mine! Then I’d turn each I’d turn each minute into a whole age, lose nothing, I’d reckon up every minute separately, I’d let nothing be wasted! He said that in the end this thought turned into such anger in him that he wished they would hurry up and shoot him.” (P.60-1)