Bike Vendor
Seen from the passenger window of my taxi, on the way to the offices of UNICEF Malawi.
Seen from the passenger window of my taxi, on the way to the offices of UNICEF Malawi.
The woman behind the front desk, Olivetta, said there is violence in the city today. Police are clearing out the hawkers and touts from the main road toward the Capital City neighborhood, and people on the streets are reacting by throwing stones and resisting the police. “Don’t go there.”
On a cloudy February day in Paris almost 12 years ago, I walked into the cramped store on the Left Bank and was awed. It was a scene of wall to wall books. Floor to ceiling, piled on tables and shelves, stacked on the floor, spilling out onto the sidewalk, where tattered and used titles were in a box marked ’15f’ (about $3). I had never seen anything like it. Or smelled anything like it. It was a pure, unadulterated literary paradise.
Seen looking east from the High Line Park, somewhere near 18th Street.
Set on a 1.6km section of elevated subway track converted to a greenway, the High Line Park is one of my favourite things in New York. With great views, of both the city and in the nearby galleries of Chelsea, the setting is a great collection of juxtapositions that seems to define the entire town.
Stone, sky and vapour. Midday on the streets of Cannes.
After midnight, on the route between Brooklyn and and Penn Station.
In a park beside the Eastern Market in the Capitol Hill neighborhood.
In the fresh snow of late night Washington DC, the streets were quiet enough to be able to stand in the middle and take pictures. This is the National Gallery of Art’s East Gallery, taken from Pennsylvania Ave.
On the platform at the Aldershot GO Train Station.
From Gabes, Tunisia, in 2005, this sign marks the route eastward toward Tripoli, Libya. At the time, the tape across the distance meant that the border was closed. But as the extraordinary events of the past few weeks reshape the region, it’s only a matter of time before the tape can be taken off the sign.
Another rusted truck, seen in Toronto’s Distillery District.
Outside the Navy Archives/Penn Quarter Metro station after a few hours of snowfall.
With the streets virtually empty immediately after a big snowfall, photography in major intersections gets a whole lot easier.
Fresh, wet flakes came to an end just before midnight. A Yamaha was parked out front.
In the fog of the late afternoon, there was only noise. So thick was the mist in the air that the famous falls were invisible, even standing right beside the gorge into which they fell. While waiting for a break, I turned in the other direction.
A 5-shot HDR composite, taken in the Distillery District about 4pm.
1:30am, somewhere in the middle of PA, out of cell phone range, on a route that was anything but direct (thanks, Google).
It’s like seasons are some kind of strange new invention this year. They’re actually happening. After hearing about airport cancellations, train pre-cancellations and other talk of snowmageddon, the flakes finally arrived in DC about 8pm. The city looked great. And today? Glad I’m not supposed to be on a plane.
Back in the city for the first time in more than 5 years, I had a checklist of shots to try. Subways, buildings, streetcars. But the chance to do long-exposure shots from an outdoor patio at the Park Hyatt’s 18th floor bar was a nice surprise. There will be more from this trip in the coming days, but here’s one of my favourites.