Saturday, August 6, 2011
Photo #39:
Sitting by the harbourfront at sunset today, I was waiting on a former work colleague from Montreal who was in town on business. I'm so primal in that any time I can be barefoot, I will be. I just hate shoes. I sat down at my favourite spot (that I usually only visit at night) and kicked off my shoes. I like this picture because the harbour almost seems like an infinity pool--there you have my tootsies, and behind it, just endless sea.
Sitting by the harbourfront at sunset today, I was waiting on a former work colleague from Montreal who was in town on business. I'm so primal in that any time I can be barefoot, I will be. I just hate shoes. I sat down at my favourite spot (that I usually only visit at night) and kicked off my shoes. I like this picture because the harbour almost seems like an infinity pool--there you have my tootsies, and behind it, just endless sea.
Photo #36:
I don't really know what my fascination is with benches like these, or what drove me to head on out to Peggy's Cove today after work. I shot this bench a few times in the past and just never liked the way the photo turned out, for some reason. Just couldn't get what I wanted. The sky was a fantastic shade of blue today but the more I drove out, the more overcast and gloomy it became. It has been wicked hot in Halifax lately, so it was the hazy kind of gloom where you can practically see the heat radiating off of everything. I have about 50 shots of this stupid chair, and now, I believe I found the one I want. Don't know why, but this one seems more right than all the others.
I don't really know what my fascination is with benches like these, or what drove me to head on out to Peggy's Cove today after work. I shot this bench a few times in the past and just never liked the way the photo turned out, for some reason. Just couldn't get what I wanted. The sky was a fantastic shade of blue today but the more I drove out, the more overcast and gloomy it became. It has been wicked hot in Halifax lately, so it was the hazy kind of gloom where you can practically see the heat radiating off of everything. I have about 50 shots of this stupid chair, and now, I believe I found the one I want. Don't know why, but this one seems more right than all the others.
Photo #35:
Citadel Hill is this humongous, steep fortress built on the top of downtown Halifax. It is so huge that it is visible from pretty much anywhere in the city, and it spans about 15 city blocks. Just an enormous fortress that was built in case Halifax ever got attacked (which it never did). Citadel Hill is both my best friend and my worse nemesis. I run on that hill. At the top, the road encircling the crest is built like an 8 point star--but the road rises and falls in steep inclines, just like the fortress does. I run all the way to the top--a feat in itself--then I circle it a few times, heaving as the hills zap everything I have left in my quads. When I'm not cursing it to high hell, Citadel Hill is a lovely place to get a panoramic view of the city, and to just lay on and have a picnic.
Citadel Hill is this humongous, steep fortress built on the top of downtown Halifax. It is so huge that it is visible from pretty much anywhere in the city, and it spans about 15 city blocks. Just an enormous fortress that was built in case Halifax ever got attacked (which it never did). Citadel Hill is both my best friend and my worse nemesis. I run on that hill. At the top, the road encircling the crest is built like an 8 point star--but the road rises and falls in steep inclines, just like the fortress does. I run all the way to the top--a feat in itself--then I circle it a few times, heaving as the hills zap everything I have left in my quads. When I'm not cursing it to high hell, Citadel Hill is a lovely place to get a panoramic view of the city, and to just lay on and have a picnic.
Photo #34:
"You march to the beat of your own drum, Lisa" that's something my mother always told me, and it's something that I both loved and hated to hear. I know I'm different. Sometimes I embrace that, explore it, make it grow--and sometimes I wish I was a tall, skinny blond with no intellect. Life might be easier--but it certainly wouldn't be as rich. It's funny how I see beauty in every one and every thing--except for in myself. There's a lot of things about myself I don't like, but years of therapy taught me not to speak of them, because spoken thoughts become real ones. My dark skin--everyone always thinks I'm "ethnic" or "exotic" and it's bothersome. Getting asked "what are you?" on a daily basis sucks. My hair--wild, big and curly and incapable of keeping a straight lock, especially in Halifax. My shoulders are wide. My legs are far too big. But, there are moments when I feel beautiful--sitting by the water front tonight, cross-legged on the ground just smelling my beloved ocean--I felt my own beauty. All of these things I hate on myself are slowly but surely becoming beautiful in their own way, and maybe one day--I'll find the boy that finds them beautiful, too.
"You march to the beat of your own drum, Lisa" that's something my mother always told me, and it's something that I both loved and hated to hear. I know I'm different. Sometimes I embrace that, explore it, make it grow--and sometimes I wish I was a tall, skinny blond with no intellect. Life might be easier--but it certainly wouldn't be as rich. It's funny how I see beauty in every one and every thing--except for in myself. There's a lot of things about myself I don't like, but years of therapy taught me not to speak of them, because spoken thoughts become real ones. My dark skin--everyone always thinks I'm "ethnic" or "exotic" and it's bothersome. Getting asked "what are you?" on a daily basis sucks. My hair--wild, big and curly and incapable of keeping a straight lock, especially in Halifax. My shoulders are wide. My legs are far too big. But, there are moments when I feel beautiful--sitting by the water front tonight, cross-legged on the ground just smelling my beloved ocean--I felt my own beauty. All of these things I hate on myself are slowly but surely becoming beautiful in their own way, and maybe one day--I'll find the boy that finds them beautiful, too.
Photo #33:
This is my roommate, Rebecca. Rebecca is a beautiful soul. She's a phenomenal artist over every single medium--she paints, she writes, she makes jewelry, she sculpts, draws, makes collages, designs her own clothes and she's a photographer. We're kindred spirits in a way--we have the same humour and we're both random in the most unthinkable ways. I came in stumbling on Thursday night, already well drunk, and started throwing my clothes off in an attempt to get ready. When she asked me where I was going, I told her to a club, and asked her if she wanted to come. In about 3 minutes flat, she was ready to go. She threw on short jeans shorts, a striped tank top--and black knee socks with combat boots. It would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Rebecca, it just worked. She's this clumsy, 6'0 blazing redhead who weighs about 100lbs soaking wet, but to me she just epitomizes what it means to be beautiful--in every sense of the word. Today we made a picnic and headed up Citadel Hill to enjoy the best views of the city. I snapped this photo of her as we were laying down catching some rays.
This is my roommate, Rebecca. Rebecca is a beautiful soul. She's a phenomenal artist over every single medium--she paints, she writes, she makes jewelry, she sculpts, draws, makes collages, designs her own clothes and she's a photographer. We're kindred spirits in a way--we have the same humour and we're both random in the most unthinkable ways. I came in stumbling on Thursday night, already well drunk, and started throwing my clothes off in an attempt to get ready. When she asked me where I was going, I told her to a club, and asked her if she wanted to come. In about 3 minutes flat, she was ready to go. She threw on short jeans shorts, a striped tank top--and black knee socks with combat boots. It would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Rebecca, it just worked. She's this clumsy, 6'0 blazing redhead who weighs about 100lbs soaking wet, but to me she just epitomizes what it means to be beautiful--in every sense of the word. Today we made a picnic and headed up Citadel Hill to enjoy the best views of the city. I snapped this photo of her as we were laying down catching some rays.
Photo #28:
These rocks just never cease to amaze me. They give Lawrencetown so much character, for as much as I hate walking across them. And for as much as I hate the creepy crawlies that lurk in the gaps (seriously, spiders the size of your fist that just jut over and under the rocks so quickly you can do nothing but squeal and pee-dance around them). This is the ramp that leads down to the water, and when I knelt down here, I swear it looked like one of those crazy, colourful ball pens I used to flitter about in when I was a kid.
These rocks just never cease to amaze me. They give Lawrencetown so much character, for as much as I hate walking across them. And for as much as I hate the creepy crawlies that lurk in the gaps (seriously, spiders the size of your fist that just jut over and under the rocks so quickly you can do nothing but squeal and pee-dance around them). This is the ramp that leads down to the water, and when I knelt down here, I swear it looked like one of those crazy, colourful ball pens I used to flitter about in when I was a kid.
Photo #26:
Because the rocks are so perilous at Lawrencetown, and because I still have a bum foot, I have to bring a more stable-soled pair of shoes with me when I go. If I wore flip flops, my foot and ankle would twist amongst all the stones and it would just be bad news. These shoes aren't rock solid, but hey, they're better than flip flops. As usual, I kicked them off in a fit of joy as soon as my toes hit the sand. I walked over a few feet to get away from the rocks, and I was putting a layer of wax on my surfboard when I looked over and thought...huh. That'd make a real pretty photo. Haphazard--like me :)
Because the rocks are so perilous at Lawrencetown, and because I still have a bum foot, I have to bring a more stable-soled pair of shoes with me when I go. If I wore flip flops, my foot and ankle would twist amongst all the stones and it would just be bad news. These shoes aren't rock solid, but hey, they're better than flip flops. As usual, I kicked them off in a fit of joy as soon as my toes hit the sand. I walked over a few feet to get away from the rocks, and I was putting a layer of wax on my surfboard when I looked over and thought...huh. That'd make a real pretty photo. Haphazard--like me :)
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