I admire all genres of photography, from wildlife, to portraiture, to black and white street work. It is a new way of seeing the world. And it has become a compelling force that drives me to get out of bed every day and resume the search for my next image.
Archives for November 2013
The entire premise of life is built upon the concept of converting one thing to another. It’s this very premise we explore in today’s post where we visit a very special place in our hearts here on Vancouver Island. This place is called Fairy Lake.
They are everywhere. Yet no one sees them…
Anne’s paintings bring the everyday, the familiar into sharp focus for the viewer to experience in new way. Everyday items, a vista, a flower, become an opportunity to slow the senses and appreciate their beauty and simplicity.
The authors travel by train through central Germany, sampling local wines, enjoying the unique regional food, and touring the Mercedes-Benz Museum.
I’ve lived on the west coast for the past 20 years and on many occasions friends from faraway places ask what keeps me here. I sometimes ask myself the same question.
I like the feeling of knowing that there will be a “pear syrup making day” put aside each fall, guilt-free, when I can partake once more in a ritual that combines usefulness sweetness, and nostalgia.
Over the years I have corrected a lot of people. I have been the person who rants about misplaced apostrophes, confused homophones, needless truncations or abbreviations, and other abuses of the English language common in modern usage. Recently I started to turn a corner.
Experimentation with drugs and alcohol during the teen years is often thought of as harmless curiosity, but the opposite is true. The younger a person is when they start using drugs, the more likely they are to develop an addiction and suffer from other serious side effects.
Watching my 20-year-old son step onto the firing platform of a Canadian trench that extended to within whispering distance of heavily fortified German trenches on Vimy Ridge, France, my heart sank knowing that the young sons of Canadian and German families 96 years before had done the same never to return home from the First World War.