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Archive for August, 2013

It was a weeknight, and by 2am the subway had closed.
To entertain ourselves, we took photos of each other and our surroundings while strolling the tattered and colourful streets of Mitte.

Looking through these photos one month later, I am reminded of the preciousness of fleeting moments, and the importance of having a ‘plan B’.

Blowing a good bubble and getting all that blurry light into my lens? Gifts!

***

Platz:

M-nus:

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Toni

“How are you feelin’?”
“I’m feelin’ dank”

U-Bahn, Berlin

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Dad

“I’m plum plum’d out!”
-said with aplomb

East Side Gallery, Berlin

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Hogtown


Ai Weiwei

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August 15th

Ten years ago on August 15th, I moved from Kingston to Toronto for a job.
The days surrounding that move were extra challenging; I’d managed to ruin two friendships so badly that the entire Northeast blacked out.

I was promised my request for the Newfoundland squid but ended up with the New Mexico alien because the U-Haul computer system (along with everything) was down and the frazzled clerks had resorted to clipboards and lists.
J was my driver.
I half-slept in the van.

I was a pupa of a human back then.

In biology, the last stage an insect will reach in its life is imago: the imaginal stage. 2003: Maturity imagined?

***

One year ago on August 15th, I obtained the keys to my condo.
The days surrounding that purchase were extra exciting; the following weekend was my best friend’s wedding.

In psychology, ‘imaginal practice’ states that the soul expresses itself through images and adheres to a relativistic post-modernity. 2013: Imagined maturity?

***

H & pupa, 2003:

***

Happy 10th anniversary, Toronto.

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Genesis

“There is no Wi-Fi in the forest, but I promise you will find a better connection.”

That mountain bike ride was so challenging.
Every minute, I was re-evaluating my life.

Linach.

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Peach Season

It’s Peach Season. I just ate 7.
Some are in the fridge ready to go, some are out on the counter that need a couple more days.

With the peaches have come the fruit flies.

I watched one fly for a while. It didn’t seem to be traveling anywhere in particular. It was darting around, this way and that. As I watched, I pondered the lifespan of something so small. Maybe this fly was young? It seemed to be having fun. If I woke up with wings I’d do what it was doing. YOLO.

The fly was hard to catch and it put up a good game.
In the end, I felt really bad killing it. It seemed so happy.
But the peaches are mine.

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