what started it all

This is the original cibachrome print of house boats in Paris, taken by father in the early 60’s, that hung in his home office my whole life. The clarity, sharpness, and depth of colour, stuck with me. It was the first photograph that took me somewhere. And I wanted to go there.

I do have the story in my past, of always having a camera in hand, from a very young age. Yes, photography is a part of how I see the world. But I think more importantly, this image impressed upon me the stories that architecture tells. I have had many discussions about the stories that faces tell, that humans tell with their pain, distress, joy, euphoria – and why not focus on capturing these stories? I am simply a human that is endlessly moved by architecture. It has mystery, sadness, fear, chaos, spirituality and breath taking beauty. It can cause us to lose our minds and it can care for us.

This image is my root. My centre. My beginning. Not only because of the man who took it, but the simple story it tells. I brought it home from Calgary and now it hangs in my bedroom in France. It is a bit of my father watching over me and a reminder of how important beginnings are.


One thought on “Storytelling

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