Photo credit: Chris Cameron*
http://chriscameron.ca/

This photo was taken by Chris only a few hours before my first commissioned wedding, a wedding in which I owned only one lens compatible with my new camera purchased 10 days before. Was I out of my mind? It was crazy because shooting a wedding is hard enough with a very familiar camera, but doing it with a far more advanced camera that’s a completely different system is courting disaster. And only one lens? (It wasn’t the kit, I got a 50mm f/1.8 prime.) I brought my Pentax K100D as backup camera with four lenses, but that wasn’t going to be enough.

My first choice was renting glass, but as an out-of-province renter it was going to be tougher (full value of lenses as deposit), especially as I was working out of town during the week and Beau Photo is closed on the weekends.

So I mentioned this to my photography friends Tom and Tuulikki** over dinner on Thursday, who put me on the phone with their Nikon expert friend for suggestions, and he recommended the 17-35mm f/2.8. His was in the shop for repair, so T+T asked around to see who else would have this lens, which brought them to Chris. They asked Chris the next morning (Friday), which brought me to Chris’s kitchen on Saturday, the day of the wedding. And while he coached me on shooting Nikon, he took my picture.

Now you know why I’m smiling, because with all this good fortune coming my way I was bound to have a great wedding ahead of me.

(And I did!)

* No, not the Pennsylvanian who’s Executor of David’s estate
** A BIG thanks to T+T, too (I used to work with Tuulikki 10 years ago)

Photo by Tuulikki

Thanks to a late ferry, I arrived at the Epicurean Cafe long after Tom and Tuulikki (of Rapidwinder fame) finished their meals. Which also meant I was trying to down dinner and talk (without ejecting dinner) while the staff were closing. Phooey!

But the evening turned more leisurely once we resumed our conversations at their home in Kitsilano, where I was able to meet the very elusive Mr. B. I tried to coax him to the red chair for a photo op, but he was having NONE OF IT. Tuulikki shot the photo above without me noticing, and we’ll try again for a red chair shot during the next trip.

I come from a family of vain folk who’ve been dyeing over their grey hair even long after it became very obvious. (At least my dad stopped.) I wrote about that more than three years ago on a trip with David, and at the same time made a prediction that I’d have enough of my own grey stuff to make a bird’s nest by the time I reached 35.

I think I was right!

In the last year or so, I’ve been noticing patches of grey hair sprouting up all around my head in random places. Even my EYEBROWS are growing white hair. I set up the tripod and used the remote to try and capture some of it.

Oops. I hardly ever take self-portraits anymore, so I’m woefully out of practice. It’s all trial-and-error working with the remote and the newly-purchased tripod.

I converted this shot to black and white so it’s easier to see. I don’t know if I’ll end up eventually dyeing my hair — the last time I had colour in it was 2003. I feel like I’ve earned each and every one of these bits of white and grey.

When I took Beano to the vet in the spring, the first thing she noticed was how much white is now mixed in with his dark fur. Maybe Beano and I can commiserate about this current state of af(hairs) over some old-person tea with lots of milk!

* Ref.

Am I turning into a local now, referring to The King Edward Hotel as the King Eddy?

At 0800 on the nose I entered the lobby to meet with the Japanese family I am looking after during their brief stay in Toronto. I informed them that the King Eddy was popular among businesspeople for breakfast meetings before work. Indeed, there was a job interview being conducted over bacon and eggs at the table directly beside us. I could hear the ambition in the interviewee’s voice as she pitched herself in the buzzwords of today’s marketing strategies.

(For the last 10 years I’ve known about the King Eddy because one of our TD clients at the company I was working for always had his regular client meetings there at 7:45 in the morning. Which was brutal considering my boss, who’d arrived the night before from Vancouver, lived on Pacific Time (-3 hours). Firing on all cylinders when your brain is expecting it to be 4:45 in the morning requires discipline and a lot of caffeine.)

In the meantime, I tried my best to communicate in the clearest English possible at a rather early hour (for me) while devouring my Swiss rosti, and planning our sightseeing for tomorrow morning. (Mmm-m-m-m, rosti — which I remarked upon after spotting it on the menu; the waiter told me the chef is Swiss.)

Before breakfast I called the tour office to confirm where the coach driver was to meet them, and he rendez-vous’ed with us promptly at 9:25 at the front entrance of the hotel. They’re off to Niagara Falls now, and we resume our whirlwind tour of Toronto in about 24 hours.

more…

While I was digging around for the photo in the previous post, I came across this one that hadn’t been uploaded and was reminded of the dimple story, which I told recently.

It all started because Nadja complimented me on my dimple, and I told her it was fake. Fake as in artificial, as in I wasn’t born with it; however, I didn’t create it, either!

I’m not sure how old I was, maybe around 10, possibly younger. We were still living in Winnipeg, and we were often at our cousins’ house or across the street at another house of distant relatives. We looked forward to those visits — there were always lots of kids to play with.

Growing up with two brothers, I was used to playing rough. In those days the theatrics of the WWF* was relatively tame, and we’d try and mimic some of the moves. I recall being punched in the stomach and having the wind knocked out of me to the point where I didn’t want to play WWF anymore. It was about that time when we were goofing around in the kitchen of the distant relatives, and Allan wanted to show off to the rest of the cousins. He put his hands on my shoulders and shook me so hard my face slammed into a heavy wooden kitchen chair.

I remember it hurt like the dickens, even after icing and many horrified apologies. The bruising and bleeding healed over quickly, but the tissue stuck permanently to the bone, creating a dimple of sorts that remains to this day. I would’ve thought the lack of symmetry and a higher-than-average position on my face would twig people to ask if it were “real”, but no one has.

And although it makes my brother look like a meanie, it also makes for a good story, especially to my five nieces and nephews!

* When we were really young, my father even took the three of us to see the WWF live! My mother went ballistic. Thinking back, I don’t know how he got away with it.

[April 26, Passion Lounge, Toronto - The Exiled Party for JEAR]

I went to bed (relatively) early last night because I was still wiped out from the nonstop weekend, and as a result woke up (un)naturally early this morning. ‘Why not catch a couple more hours?’ I thought to myself, since I had the chance and didn’t know when I’d get this chance again.

OW! In those two hours of sleep, I somehow managed to do something to the right side of my neck and now I can barely move it, and a cramp attacked my right calf. When I slowly crawled out of bed I was hobbling like an elderly person making a lunge for her Zimmer frame, half wishing for a neck brace to magically appear out of the ether.

What happened?!?! Age, that’s what. I haven’t been 36 for two weeks and already the right side of my body is starting to fail me. I haven’t even mentioned yet the thumb joint problem I started having on my second day in Norway. I don’t understand it — all my work is on the computer and I can see developing problems after days of intensive mousing, but I was on holiday and spent very little time with a keyboard and mouse. It originally felt like a dislocation but the pain eventually subsided by the end of that week. The area where the thumb meets the palm doesn’t feel right yet and I’m beginning to wonder if it ever will. Is it all downhill from here???

During last Saturday’s engagement session I was shooting on my knees, on the ground, hanging from railings, and standing on a 7-ft ladder. Perhaps (more) insurance is in order.

Canada is 141 years old today, and going stronger than ever. At 36, hopefully these minor ailments won’t take over and I will be going strong again, too!

I’m going to break from the protocol here at gailatlarge.com — where I don’t talk about work — to talk about work for a moment.

Yesterday was my last day of work for the Ontario government. I gave my notice nearly three (!) months ago, on December 10, when my contract first expired (it was extended once and then twice more since December). It was only on the final day of the two-week deadline for applications that I decided not to apply for my own position. A replacement was hired late January, and I’ve been training her for the past two weeks.

Yes, the government wheels turn VERY, VERY slowly.

I’ll be freelancing for the next little while, before turning to new directions.

more…

A sleek rat charm given to David and me, from Socar. I still have it.

This photo was originally posted on November 13, 2005, where you will find the story of Stella the Gambian Pouched Rat and a video I shot of her making away with a spring roll. Ah, she was a lively one, she was…

If you’re not familiar with the Rat sign in the Chinese Zodiac, here’s a primer:

more…

I was walking home in heavy snowfall after work today, and — for the first time in my life, I’m certain — witnessed thunder, lightning, AND snow all at the same time!!

We’ll see if I can get any pictures… after I shovel the driveway and sidewalk.

* Fast forward a couple of hours *

Yes, the Energizer Bunny kept going and going… and then got totally sick of shovelling snow!

I’m pooped. I got ambitious and shovelled not one but three driveways and the sidewalks in front of them. Nearly two hours of shovelling! That’s more than I’ve ever done in my life!

I have only my parents to thank for moving to coastal BC when I was 13, from Winnipeg. It might rain a lot in the Lower Mainland but you don’t have to shovel rain!

(I ruined my own surprise today, by accident. More on this in a bit.)

Thank you, Siobhan! I’m sorry Canada Post took so long to deliver it, but it is no less appreciated and it’s still a happy surprise!

Illustration by Relentlesstoil.

more…