Category: Days in Pictures

Twenty twenty started out much like previous years, in Montreal; and I kicked off the fourth year of my photo challenge with a squinty selfie because why not.

The following day, back in Ottawa, I went out to buy a new, real camera: specifically, a Sony α-7iii, which reviews tell me is the best all-around camera for my budget. And also to reminisce… It’s true, time does move on, and I guess some memories will never get a permanent monument. And, realistically, I’m sure Ottawa’s LGBTQ community is better served a quarter-century later. But still…

More reminiscing, more touristing: Parliament Hill, wandering into the Market, then a bit north, then hey why not walk to Hull? Didn’t walk the whole way but I did get a nice view of both sides of the bridge.

And look: my first picture with the new camera. Not too bad, right? Softer contrast (which is one thing that annoys me about my OnePlus’s camera) + a proper optical zoom (70mm, baby) + highest possible resolution = a great shot of a squirrel in our backyard.

Mind you, that’s when I started running into problems. Problem #1 being how to get photos from the camera to my phone so I can post to IG. It is possible to do it through the magic of wireless—that was one of my requirements—but the connection is… finicky. I’vegot the hang of it now, though, you just have to know the trick.

More generally, I haven’t used a real camera in over ten years, and I’d forgotten how many settings the damn things have—this model more than most, apparently. The reviews all said there would be a learning curve, but also that it would be worth it. They were right, but it took me a while! My first real foray with the new toy was disappointing in some ways. Some pics were kind of overexposed, some with slightly wrong focus (and a bit too dark). I was able to put the zoom to good use, though! And at least the blue / golden hours were white-balanced correctly.

The learning process is letting me do cool things, though. Like this shot of geese on the water, that I didn’t mean to expose and saturate like that; like the m-fing Moon (a few more times, actually); like this closeup of a pretty seagull; and other shots that I’ve always wanted to be able to do, like the lights of downtown from Granville Bridge or the foot of Davie Street from Cambie Bridge. The 70mm lens lets me get much closer to the local wildlife than ever before, too: sparrows, robins, crows, cormorants, ducks. Maybe that’s going to be my thing?

Or at least a thing. I haven’t forgotten architecture! After a PuSh Festival show and before stumbling on the moon rising above the cranes I wandered around for a bit and found these words on this old hotel. Awesome. It is super cool to uncover a bit of Vancouver’s architecture history.

Haven’t forgotten my phone, either. My camera doesn’t do macros nearly as well, and it’s more awkward to handle, so you get little experimental photos like this one or this one.

I’m still exploring, still sort of tooling around with it, going through the online manual. It’s pretty frustrating sometimes, because I feel like I’m doing the same stuff I’ve done over the last three years when I should be taking advantage of this new hardware and doing completely new things. I just don’t know what they could be. That’s okay, though! Everything is a learning process. Now that I’ve got a feel for this thing I’ll probably want to get some more versatile lenses to supplement by basic one before my Paris trip. That’ll get my creative juices going

So a funny thing happened on October 30 (day 1033): I snapped a couple of excellent photos in and then… figured I had enough and I could stop for the day. I was tired, and I could save any more potential shots for later, because they’d still be there.

And sure, they would. But was that enough reason to wait? No it was not. So I gave that grumpy ‘tude the elbow and set out to grab a few more shots—a nice one of downtown across the water and, for the first time, a video! I like it, though I’m not sure where to go from here. I tried to take another video a couple days later, of the SkyTrain from the Georgia Viaduct, as it swoops and banks out of Main Street Station, but I messed up and only recorded a couple seconds. Did better the next day, though.

At the time, I asked myself if this was something I wanted to keep doing. Was this “the next level” I’ve been going on about since hitting day 1,000, and which some of my friends even suggested? It was definitely new, but the fact that I haven’t done any more videos kind of answers that question.

It’s okay, though, because I think I learned my lesson: seize the day. There is an infinite number of photos for the taking, and I don’t need to ration them. And also, I don’t need to listen to the little voice (yes, I have one) inside wondering if people get turned off when I post too many photos. Whatever “too many” means. I do what I want and it’s stupid and it can’t tell me what to do. Of course, it’s okay to get tired and uninspired, but that negative self-talk doesn’t need reinforcing.

Speaking of voices: while on the Culture Crawl I got to chatting with one of the artists at 1000 Parker Street, and mentioned my IG. It felt like bragging, and like something I shouldn’t do with a real artist, and I had to fight the urge to use self-deprecating language like “Oh, I just do photography”.

Also—and probably related—I felt all awkward and babbly. Mind you, she probably appreciated the human interaction, babbly or not. But you know what she told me, that I think was the thing I needed to hear?

That she considered me an artist too.

So many times I’ve gone to the Crawl, honestly enjoying the art and creativity around me, but underneath it there were undercurrents of hunger for both inspiration and direction, and feelings of inadequacy. I wanted to create something like what I was seeing, yet didn’t know how or if that was possible. But 1,000 straight days of photography will change you; maybe what I really wanted now is validation. That the things I create, have worth. That they are special and interesting. And that they have a future.

Still haven’t figured out what that future is, though. But… I know it’s there.

Took a couple selfies too, in the month of December, which is still a semi-big deal for me. One while taking a sunset walk on Sunset Beach, and one volunteering for the VMC, as is my wont. Both were kind of planned. I’ve arlready done the selfie-in-church-in-nice-clothes thing last year, but this is the only time I ever wear a bowtie, so I should make the most of it. And for Sunset Beach, I just had a hankering, y’know? Can’t explain it, but I went with it. It’s nice to put my face out there… after like a dozen tries to get the angle and the smile just right, of course.

And as we close off the decade, I got a new phone after 2 years with my old Pixel! Night shots are sublime, macro zooms are excellent, I can do still lives and full moon shots better than ever. Colour balance on the OnePlus 7T sometimes needs manual correction, especially in twilight hours (morning or evening), which is annoying, but overall it really does take excellent photos. Like this lost bunny on Cambie Bridge, Sunset Beach with the half-finished new dock, Yaletown towers in the rising sun, False Creek at night and tiny wet berries.

BUT: partly because of these aforementioned flaws, and partly because I feel I’m growing as a photographer and smartphones aren’t cutting it anymore, I’m planning to get a real camera again. Got the make and model already figured out. I’ll be heading into 2020 with brand new tools to share my visions!

So. This milestone.

I’d figured out a while ago that Day 1000 would end up in late September, but I wasn’t really planning anything for it. Mostly, I think, I just wanted to not miss a day. I’d made it this far, after all, it would look damn stupid to drop the ball right at the finish line.

(Not that this is a finish line.)

But I made it to my milestone: exactly 3,100 photos in 1,000 days (plus 2 as of day 1,001). Damn, am I going to have to remember to add those comma separators now that I’m in the 4-digit range? Small price to pay, I guess.

I feel I should do something special to celebrate. Not dinner, but push my creativity in different directions. I started blogging again on day 100; I should at least take that up more consistently, right? But what else? Some wits suggested vlogging, as though I weren’t too shy and awkward to go in front of a camera and say stuff.

Then again, didn’t I do exactly that today? My talk on WP-CLI was recorded; and as awkward and nervous as I felt inside, the audience was receptive and engaged, laughed at the places I wanted them to laugh, asked plenty of questions and sent me lots of LinkedIn invites afterwards. So hey, thumbs up? I’ll be honest, part of me is still not quite ready to believe it, but I can’t ignore the evidence.

And I need to remember all this going forward into the next thousand days.

What have I been up to, photo-wise, in the last five weeks? Nothing super out of the ordinary: mostly, a lot of walking on the seawall. The weather is still mostly good, so I’m counting my blessings there. I’ve seen herons, gulls and… is that a cormorant?, a different seagull, duckies, pirates, AND THE FUZZIEST CATERPILLAR IN THE WORLD OH EM GEE.

Some gorgeous mornings featuring towers, more towers, Jesus lights, Granville Bridge, the Granville Island Giants, boats, more boats, and parks. Some gorgeous evenings featuring Cambie Bridge, Granville Bridge (again), boats on English Bay, a little red boat, and a shot from near Science World.

As the days shorten, I expect to see a lot more sunsets and sunrises. Prepare accordingly.

There was something special early in the month, though: my brother and sis-in-law came to Vancouver for a week. Her first visit here, and only his second (after my Master’s graduation, waaaaay back in ’99). I couldn’t take the whole week off, but we took the ferry to Victoria on Sunday, going by Hatley Castle and Esquimalt Lagoon. Wednesday we went on a walking tour of Stanley Park, with stories of lurid murders and displaced Indigenous settlements, and then capped it off with a delish dinner at the Teahouse.

Friday, we went up Grouse Mountain. Not the Grind, that would be silly, even though there were people doing it on that cool drizzly day, but to check out:

• Capilano Suspension Bridge. No, I didn’t get on. Once (the last time my parents visited) was plenty for a lifetime. But we did go on the cliff walk thing, which was at least more stable and still gave us a great view.
• Cleveland Dam and the Capilano Reservoir, which I’d never seen before! I kind of wish the light was better, but you can’t tell me it’s not dramatic
• And then, up the mountain. We wanted to go to to this spot called The Eye of the Wind—which is a cool wind turbine you can visit, but sounds like the MacGuffin artefact in some cheesy fantasy novel—but you could only get to it in tours, and no more tours were going this late. Not that we could have seen anything, what with the fog and all. But we did get to see statues! And deer! And those two bears they keep! Who have really striking profiles and a lot of junk in the trunk.

As I said, I’m going to blog more. I’ve got more time now that I’m not preparing for WordCamp, and I have to make time for it anyway because it’s not just for fun, it’s a mindfulness exercise. And it’ll help me figure out how to take things to the next level, starting with what that even means.

Let’s recap our Pride week, shall we?

Sunday, winning 2nd place in our beach volleyball league! It was a tough fight all summer, but Resting Beach Face triumphed! Or, y’know, was Miss Congeniality or whatever. Either way, it was great fun.

Monday, Paris is Burning. I’d only ever heard of it from RuPaul’s Drag Race, with the “reading is fundamental” bits and so on. Hey, you gotta start somewhere! I loved the movie: it was deeply moving, and excellent education, laying out the terms and concepts very clearly like any good documentary should, while also letting the people involved have their voice.

Kind of makes you think about Drag Race, too: how it cleans up an edgy and underground scene for the consumption of Middle America, making it safe and memeful… but also letting drag queens become celebrities in their own right, and making drag safer and more accessible. Besides, it’s not like they didn’t have their own nostalgia filter in the 80’s, and if RuPaul sold out, well, any single one of the queens we saw would have bitten off their right arm for the money and fame she achieved, so here we are.

Tuesday, not pictured: LOLGBTQ, a fundraiser for Out in Schools featuring a bevy of LGBTQ+ comics. Now in its 3rd iteration, it’s right in my hood and not to be missed!

Wednesday: the same grass volleyball I play every week in the summer. It is gay volleyball though, so I guess it counts!

Thursday, the Big Gay Sing! No, I didn’t learn to sing any better since last year. Let’s leave it at that!

Friday, more gay grass volleyball. Wasn’t looking for anything more, since I was physically tired (more on that below) and I’m rarely up for big dances and things at the best of times.

Saturday, the Dyke March! Same as last year, I didn’t participate, but same as last year it was loud and proud and wonderfully political. And same as last year they had things to say about TERFs. Lots of things. But, there was something new on The Drive: a plaque celebrating the neighbourhood’s queer heritage, which it seems was brand spanking new. I’m not sure exactly who’s responsible for these plaques (I saw another one later that day at Little Sister’s), but kudos to them.

Saturday night, the last day of the fireworks. I missed the previous two (yes, even Team Canada on Wednesday—tired after volleyball, I just wanted to go home and avoid the crowds). Good times! Again, I was right close to the English Bay water, allowing me to take some lovely shots. And some lovely meta-shots. But urgh, the crowds. And the fencing. I get why they have to have those fenced aisles so emergency services can get through, but I don’t know about the fencing. And you better hope you don’t need to go to the loo, otherwise you’ll be walking on other people’s blankets, and feeling kind of bad but fuck it, I’m not here to navigate a maze.

Sunday, the Parade. I mean, this was the third parade I’d been in or watched in the last week, but this is the main one. Or the biggest one. Certainly the only one with Justin Trudeau and Jagmeet Singh. And the only one with masses of commercially-produced rainbow flags and whatnot, but behold: a handmade sign! And here’s another one! Thanks Aja.

Sign of the times, maybe? With the Pride Society flexing its power to hold some groups accountable (disinviting the VPD last fall, and VPL and UBC in the last few weeks), are we edging into a Pride that’s more mindful of disadvantaged groups within the LGBTQ+ spectrum, and not just, like, Scotiabank and selfies with politicians? Either way, I approve of the trend.

And then after late lunch with some of the VGVA crew, I deliberately did not follow them to Numbers. It was good to be invited, but… nah, really not up to it. Didn’t even go to the festival, though I kind of wanted to. But it was hot, and I was tired.

I usually spend Pride Monday vegging, but not this year! Because this year, I went on the Really Gay History Tour, learning all about Gone-to-the-spirits, an early 19th century transgender prophet; prosecutions for “buggery” and “gross indecency”; Vancouver’s sex-segregated beer parlours, sites of early gay cruising; the love letters of Constance Grey Swartz, a rare glimpse of historic bi visibility; the Castle Hotel where Winners is now, site of Vancouver’s first kiss-in; ted northe ( he spelled his names in all lower case), drag queen and activist, who spearheaded the campaign that led to the partial decriminalisation of gay sex in 1969; how Mike Harcourt proclaimed Gay Unity Week in 1981 and made Pride parades official… and just a few years later, lobbied by middle-class gays who wanted to clean up their neighbourhood, the same Mike Harcourt drove sex workers out of the West End. The lesson here is: even the politicians we may think of as heroes turn out to be a very mixed bag, and though gay unity is a nice idea, some members of the community will sell others down the river for more respectability and political access, and property values.

Some of these stories I already knew, but it was good to have it all tied together. The tapestry is still very incomplete, and probably always will be.

As I previously mentioned I’ve been walking to work. The long way, along the Seawall. And taking lots of lovely photos: David Lam Park, False Creek, the Yaletown skyline, public art, ponds and duckies. I’m used to a lot of walking, but this is still a lot, and it really creeps up on you at the end of the week! And… I’ll be honest, it’s not happening quite like I dreamed. I pictured relaxing strolls home, taking in the sights, but that hasn’t happened yet, what with volleyball and all the other Pride week stuff I need to do. I still feel… constrained, y’know? By routine. By work pressures.

And that’s normal. That’s okay. I’m going through a change on many levels, and I will adapt. One step at a time.

Two weeks ago I let my inner artist out for to play and mess around with paint. I’ve doodled with pencil and pen lots of times, and designed a couple of my tattoos in Illustrator, but drip painting is a whole new medium. It was hella fun in spite of the frustration because I honestly didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

But hey, isn’t that the whole point? To let go of all my doubts and second-guessing, and just go with the flow. Yep, absolutely. And did it work? I’d say it did! And I’ve figured out a couple new ideas to try for next time. Because I want there to be a next time.

A week later I celebrated my own birthday. Actually, I celebrated it twice; one dinner on the exact day of, in a place I’d never been before but came recommended, and later in a rather more familiar restaurant that could accomodate a larger party. I always get a bit twitchy around my birthday; maybe part of it is having to count the years even though I don’t actually feel any older, and part of it is having to plan social things, which I don’t feel I’m very good at. Yeah, you’d think dinners would be straightforward, but it’s quite a workout when you second-guess every detail.

Forced me to clean up my apartment for guests though, so that was some good self-care.

And speaking of social, I went back to Quests and Queers at the Storm Crow after quite a long hiatus. I’ve missed it, and learned a fun new game!

Speaking more of social, I attended Black Lives Matter’s March on Pride last Saturday. I do enjoy the main parade, but I want to support the alternative events too—East Side Pride, the Dyke March, and this. I mean, it’s time I put my money and feet where my mouth is, because (a) I’ve been meaning to go since last year, and (b) I’ve gotten in enough arguments about BLM and police presence at Pride parades, and I figure being an ally also means doing stuff. I’ll admit I was kind of nervous during the march, but there was no incident. Before the march, though, I did witness the organisers get hit with a racial slur. Good thing we’re not the US and therefore OK, or I would have totally taken that the wrong way.

But on a more reflective notes, I’d like to mention two street shots I’m extremely happy with: Richards Street on July 19 and Denman Street on July 21. Different as they are in colour and feel, I think one thing that ties them together is the people. Anonymous people, unidentifiable, but they give these shots a dynamic oomph I’m really enjoying. I’m usually really twitchy about taking photos of people without their permission, but I feel this is safe and not intrusive. And you can’t argue with the results!

Fun fact: I almost didn’t post the July 19 photo, or any of the other ones I took that evening. I already had my daily photo; and I was tired, I think, not really in the mood for creative expression. Maybe the volleyball helped? In any case, I’m glad I told myself “ehhh, I guess I’ll post these.” There’s a time and place for self-editing, but I can definitely take it too far.

It’s funny, I also didn’t blog for the longest time after my Belgium & Netherlands trip two years ago, the big milestone that made me start again being, of course, joining Gossamer Threads. The 2-year anniversary of that blessed day has come and gone without much fanfare (so far; there may be cake or something at some point) but it’s still a huge deal to me because this remains an awesome job that keeps pushing me to grow as a developer and learn new technologies. It’s been mostly WordPress, sure; but lately I’ve also gotten into Vue.js, Laravel and AWS, plus a quick dip back into Drupal 7. Good stuff.

Confession time: in hindsight I think I may have settled into a comfort zone with being a backend WordPress developer. Yes, that’s what I was hired for, and yes, being specialised is not a bad thing, but I need to take a step back and look at the big picture. There’s a whole world out there! Besides, playing with UI stuff is a hell of a trip. We move forward, ever forward. Twirling towards freedom.

Another way I’m moving forward: volleyball. For many years now I’ve been stuck in the Intermediate division, apparently juuuust on the cusp of Competitive (the next division up), and feeling super frustrated about it. This year I didn’t get in the division I wanted, the newly-renamed Competitive 2, formerly Competitive (more or less) but neither did I end in Intermediate again! With the division restructuring I get… the newly-created Competitive 1 (between Int and C2). Is that disappointing? A little bit. It does mean I play until 9PM on a Sunday night, but apparently the skill level will be comparable to last year’s Competitive, so that’s all right. To be honest, I don’t feel I played my best during tryouts, so I was terrified I’d be stuck in Intermediate again. And if I did, would I ever be good enough to move up? I’m not getting any younger; was Intermediate the best I could get?

But poop on those self-doubts, because I am getting better and now I have the invitation to prove it. Again, not not quite like I hoped, but this feels like RuPaul telling me I was safe after a hard challenge. And I have new hope I’ll make it in higher divisions next year.

Photo-wise, what else have I been up to? A bit of nostalgia for the parts of Iceland I never got to see—but overall I was glad to be home. Iceland was beautiful, but far too grey and brown, even in late spring. I need myself some green!

A nice walk on Lions Gate Bridge; some hella gorgeous sunsets; a lot of flowers; some pretty pictures of grass volleyball; enjoying one of the few Studio Ghibli movies I’d been missing; enjoying East Side Pride and getting all political; hiking clear around Stanley Park for the first time in years, and zooming in on my crabby neighbours; and still taking photos of Sunset Beach.

That’s only going to last a couple more weeks. Looking forward to the change. Looking forward to the change. Looking forward to Pride, and the Queer Film Fest. Looking forward to all the things pulling me forward.

I’ve just finished recovering from the second big trip of my adult life, this time to the land of ice! Ten days with my parents, first in Akureyri and then in Reykjavik. Iceland is… special. Terribly young in many ways, yet with a history and culture that stretches over a millenium. Black sand deserts and lava flow deserts, stark mountains, glaciers and waterfalls and steam vents, that’s Iceland.

I’d taken a few strolls through Reykjavik via Google Maps, so I didn’t expect the same cool architecture I found in Brussels or Amsterdam. Everything’s super young; the oldest building may be the Prime Minister’s residence / office which is… late 18th century, I think? Almost everything else I’ve seen is much more recent. Still, though it mostly feels very suburban, Reykjavik does have a certain charm. Won’t find anything like Brussel’s frilly neo-gothic cathedrals, they’re too Lutheran for that, but can you honestly tell me Hallgrímskirkja isn’t cool? Clean lines, a geometric columnar design apparently inspired by basalt stacks, and an equally clean interior. Yeah, the lapsed Catholic in me wants excess and pomp and, like, flying buttresses and stained glass roses, but I could definitely get used to this.

Iceland also has a lot of lovely public art, though some of it understandably goes over my head. For example, I’m not sure what to make of Sigling in Akureyri. This statue of Thor in Vík is much more straightforward, as is this memorial to a semi-mythical Viking settler. In Reykjavik someone deconstructed a Viking longship down to its very bones—the repeating three-pronged element is likely a nod to the Helm of Awe, a symbol I’ve seen all over the place in gift shops, and only now got around to googling its name.

But really, it’s Iceland’s natural wonders we came to see, and oh baby were there a lot of them! Waterfalls like Goðafoss, Dettifoss, Seljalandsfoss, Skógafoss, Systrafoss and Gullfoss. Jökulsarlón, aka “Glacier Lagoon”, a lagoon filled with little icebergs we got to see up close; the Diamond Beach, just downstream from it. Cliffs covered in screeching birds. Scraggly forests. 11PM sunsets.

Some locals aren’t happy. Iceland has built a lot of infrastructure in the last few decades, but a lot of it seems to be just for the benefit of tourists. And they’re coming in in droves, sometimes with little respect for local cultures, knowledge of what’s where, how to get around, and how not to harm ecologically sensitive environments. A good example would be those hundreds of folks in big-ass cruise ships that may go whale watching but otherwise don’t contribute to local economies. This is the best of bad situations, I hear; after the financial crisis 10 years ago, Iceland could have actually sold off some of its land, but chose to sell off views of it, and the tourism industry massively took off. So it could be worse, but not everybody’s happy about turning Iceland into The Iceland Experience™.

Unlike my other trip two years ago, I brought home very few souvenirs. A photography book (The Selection / Úrvalið, by Einar Falur Ingólfsson), a fridge magnet, a novella (Gunnar Gunnarsson’s classic The Good Shepherd, aka Advent), and… two smooth little black stones; one I took from Reynisfjara, one from Djúpalónssandur. Actually I might have taken it right after I took that kelp photo. I’d originally taken two stones from Reynisfjara, but I gave one to some trolls. No, not the kind that live on the internet and yell at people, the kind that live in stony wilderness and help people. Hey, even if my wish doesn’t come true, at least I’ll have a connection to Iceland—and I may swing by in the future, to see how the trolls are doing.