But then the weather cleared up, as it does, and Robson gets sparkly this time of year.
Thurlow also looks nice. As does Howe—not from a cruise ship, but from under the big sail thingies at Canada Place. I had to step into one of the alcoves near lights, and do my best to align my shot with the street… which wasn’t fun, believe me, because my acrophobia was kicking up something fierce. For some reason when I take photos from a bridge, it manifests itself as fear that I’ll drop my phone. I wonder if a strap would help with that?
Anyway. I really like this shot, because it’s a visual reminder that Vancouver goes way down as well as up. And now I’m trying to remember what’s down there. Parking, I think? And the SkyTrain. Oh yeah, and this is an actual street, that runs along the waterfront and comes up past Burrard. I drove down it once during the summer, back when 1st Avenue was under construction, and I had to park downtown but not at my place, or I’d be late for a friend’s birthday shenanigans.
And now, let’s talk about the East Side Culture Crawl. I only took a quick stroll through 100 Parker Street and one other studio this year, but as usual it was a really good time. And I realise I’m approaching the Crawl very differently than how I used to. Five years ago I blogged about being “hungry for inspiration”, how I didn’t know where I was going, artistic-expression-wise, and kind of hoping being a productive artist was contagious or something. Whatever these artists had, back then I didn’t think I had it in me.
In hindsight, It’s pretty clear what the problem was: I was going down the wrong path, trying to nurture the wrong thing. I mean, drawing? Really? I suck at that, and I’d need actual serious classes to make me not suck! But that was all I felt I had. The other problem was, though I did take photos and blog every now and then, it was pretty infrequent—except for the VQFF, of course.
But look at me now: taking pictures every single day, for the last 694 days, and blogging steadily. This year at the Crawl it dawned on me that I finally have everything I need. Sure, I still enjoyed looking at all these art pieces, but it felt different. Not as hungry for something that won’t work for me anyway. I’ve found my path and I’m walking it one step at a time, one day at a time. That’s all the inspiration I need.