I’ve loved the art of fashion for a long time. I don’t know exactly when or how it started, but it certainly swung into high gear with my first trip to Paris. Like after a lifetime of listening to baseball on the radio, then finally going to a game at a major league ballpark, it was a whole new world.
A slab of rusted metal bisects the facade of a building near Cherry Beach.
A view from one station platform to another, somewhere along Line 4.
While riding downward from the viewpoint a few floors above, a look toward the courtyard.
Looking south from the bridge at Davisville station, just as the snow starts to fly.
Acadia Art and Rare Books on Queen Street, just after the rain stopped.
From Notre Dame, looking east to Isle St. Louis.
Near Cherry Beach.
A detail of the famous Cherry Street Bridge.
An unknown (and unused?) utility building near Cherry Beach.
A December morning in Toronto.
From the window of the train on the opposite track.
The silhouettes of trees on the near side of the harbor are thrown against a freighter, docked in downtown Owen Sound.
Back in the days before digital cameras, traveling with film added an extra dimension to the hassle of photography. Getting items hand inspected. Cramming as many canisters of film into carryons as possible. Or not, and taking a chance that the “Xray machine does not damage film below 800 ISO” sign was accurate. The weight of all those canisters. I miss the feel of film and printing with it in the darkroom, but am happy to have evolved to a photographic existence of bits and bytes. On my 2003 trip to New Zealand, I forgot a roll of film in my checked luggage. It was ISO 400 color print film — one of the 40 or so rolls of various types that I took with me. When I landed in Los Angeles, and had to recheck my bags, I realized my mistake. The sign was wrong. This is one full frame of the negatives from that roll. I like the pattern. The repetition. The subtle variation. But mostly, I like that I don’t ever have to deal with this again.
11pm in January. From the southwest corner of the tower.
A long view of the different floors of the Louvre’s Richelieu wing, with modern architecture that’s an unmistakable nod to Louis Kahn and his geometric features.
The square in front of Notre Dame, home to France’s Kilometre Zero, just after the rain stopped.
Just one (bundled) person braves the January cold of the uncovered portion of the tour boat.
On the west side of Owen Sound’s harbour.
More of one of the vintage trucks in Toronto’s Distillery District. See more from the Distillery District series.