In the world of Fairies and Elves...
Everyone lives happily, the trees are made of sugared plums and spearmint drops. The trolls are happy pleasant neighbors to the fairies, the elves dance in rings all around the forest, and the sun is shiny bright and warm every day.
Now close your eyes and imagine this happy little scene for a few minutes ...
You hear the peaceful babbling brook, the birds are chirping in Fairy Land, the elves are singing a happy song far off in the distance. . . and then BLAM!!!! your head goes back under the freezing cold water again!!!!!
Got some water in my Compass a while ago and ended up turning left at Albuquerque when I knew I shoulda turned right... hmmm. Don't forget to check YOUR Compass!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
An old story... for your entertainment!
Once upon a time, in a land far far away...
I was in one of my favorite hot spots on assignment. Just taking pictures, minding my own business. I have my camera up against my face, and of course that was back in the day before digital so I am conserving my very hard to get film and composing my shots carefully.
A group of men are inching closer and closer, trying to see why I am photographing, practically spread across the road, lying on my stomach in the dust and dirt. Finally one says, not in english by the way, "Excuse me Miss?" I liked him immediately because he called me Miss.
"Excuse me Miss, what are you photographing?"
By this time they had been watching me for a half an hour, maybe more. So I tell them I found some wildlife I've never seen before and I wanted to get it on film, up close.
They decide they are all wildlife experts and they will tell me what it is I am photographing if I could just move sideways for one moment so they could see. So I move slightly to my left and they are almost toppling over each other so they can be the first to tell 'Miss' what wonderful creature she is taking pictures of. After a few seconds of silence, I continue to look through my viewfinder, chatting away to them and asking questions. While my face is glued to my camera, I am not seeing them slowly backing away.
All of a sudden, an older man gets out of a vehicle and starts speaking to me in very broken english. I look up to see him coming towards me and everyone else on the otherside of the road. Their hands all up in the air gesturing wildly. At first the older man is walking, no... striding with force and determination is a more accurate description. Then he is yelling at me to crawl backwards slowly, no rapid movements. I'm thinking what is he going on about, I am only photographing a really colorful worm. It was no bigger than a really long earthworm. No big deal right?
By this time he has reached my side, and with one big stomp, he has ended the life of this adorable little worm. I am looking at him, possibly with confusion written all over my face. He grabs my hand and lifts me off the ground, not letting go of me, he says, very slowly, as if he's talking to an escaped mental patient, "This one is very bad!" and that I was photographing the offspring of one of the most poisonous snakes in the country. I am still confused as everyone knows snakes don't have venom until much later in life and I say as much to him. He grabs me by the elbow and still has my hand in his other grip, and hauls me across the road to where all the others are gabbing madly and pointing at me and the dead baby snake. He stares at me in silence for at least 30 seconds before he could form the sentance. He points about 3 meters down the way from where I was laying, and there, slithering out of the debris on the side of the road, is the adult snake.
This sets all the other locals off in absolute madness as the scramble to get in to the vehicles and shut the doors and windows. My guide comes out of the little tea hut and sees the mass exodus of trucks, cars, and drivers, dirt and dust flying in the air, and looks at me like a stupid foreign girl and asks what I did to make them all run away. The older man who apparently had just saved my life, starts giving my guide the gears about leaving the stupid foreign girl alone for two minutes and look at all the trouble she caused. He grabs my guide's face and points his gaze in the direction of the snake twisting and sliding in the dust. Next thing I know, I'm being shoved into the side of our truck and in the blazing heat with all the windows up... PS no air conditioning!
As we're driving away, I'm watching the older man going back to the snake side of the road with a tree trunk. Really, it was a tree trunk he had whittled and carved into a club. This little skinny man, swings this tree trunk back over his shoulder, and smashes this fully grown snake to smithereens.
Later I learned the skinny snake killer was the owner of the tea hut, and he spent the next three weeks hunting down the rest of the offspring in the debris by the side of the road. "Bad for business", he said.
Well, that's my story, one of them anyways!
Tell your friends and don't forget to check your compass!
Cole
I was in one of my favorite hot spots on assignment. Just taking pictures, minding my own business. I have my camera up against my face, and of course that was back in the day before digital so I am conserving my very hard to get film and composing my shots carefully.
A group of men are inching closer and closer, trying to see why I am photographing, practically spread across the road, lying on my stomach in the dust and dirt. Finally one says, not in english by the way, "Excuse me Miss?" I liked him immediately because he called me Miss.
"Excuse me Miss, what are you photographing?"
By this time they had been watching me for a half an hour, maybe more. So I tell them I found some wildlife I've never seen before and I wanted to get it on film, up close.
They decide they are all wildlife experts and they will tell me what it is I am photographing if I could just move sideways for one moment so they could see. So I move slightly to my left and they are almost toppling over each other so they can be the first to tell 'Miss' what wonderful creature she is taking pictures of. After a few seconds of silence, I continue to look through my viewfinder, chatting away to them and asking questions. While my face is glued to my camera, I am not seeing them slowly backing away.
All of a sudden, an older man gets out of a vehicle and starts speaking to me in very broken english. I look up to see him coming towards me and everyone else on the otherside of the road. Their hands all up in the air gesturing wildly. At first the older man is walking, no... striding with force and determination is a more accurate description. Then he is yelling at me to crawl backwards slowly, no rapid movements. I'm thinking what is he going on about, I am only photographing a really colorful worm. It was no bigger than a really long earthworm. No big deal right?
By this time he has reached my side, and with one big stomp, he has ended the life of this adorable little worm. I am looking at him, possibly with confusion written all over my face. He grabs my hand and lifts me off the ground, not letting go of me, he says, very slowly, as if he's talking to an escaped mental patient, "This one is very bad!" and that I was photographing the offspring of one of the most poisonous snakes in the country. I am still confused as everyone knows snakes don't have venom until much later in life and I say as much to him. He grabs me by the elbow and still has my hand in his other grip, and hauls me across the road to where all the others are gabbing madly and pointing at me and the dead baby snake. He stares at me in silence for at least 30 seconds before he could form the sentance. He points about 3 meters down the way from where I was laying, and there, slithering out of the debris on the side of the road, is the adult snake.
This sets all the other locals off in absolute madness as the scramble to get in to the vehicles and shut the doors and windows. My guide comes out of the little tea hut and sees the mass exodus of trucks, cars, and drivers, dirt and dust flying in the air, and looks at me like a stupid foreign girl and asks what I did to make them all run away. The older man who apparently had just saved my life, starts giving my guide the gears about leaving the stupid foreign girl alone for two minutes and look at all the trouble she caused. He grabs my guide's face and points his gaze in the direction of the snake twisting and sliding in the dust. Next thing I know, I'm being shoved into the side of our truck and in the blazing heat with all the windows up... PS no air conditioning!
As we're driving away, I'm watching the older man going back to the snake side of the road with a tree trunk. Really, it was a tree trunk he had whittled and carved into a club. This little skinny man, swings this tree trunk back over his shoulder, and smashes this fully grown snake to smithereens.
Later I learned the skinny snake killer was the owner of the tea hut, and he spent the next three weeks hunting down the rest of the offspring in the debris by the side of the road. "Bad for business", he said.
Well, that's my story, one of them anyways!
Tell your friends and don't forget to check your compass!
Cole
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Can the second day of blogging be as charming as the first?
Day 2 ... Blogging central... The day was dark and stormy... Lol!
Okay seriously, here is a quick anecdote about my day in the studio. This beautiful loft I reside in, is on the second floor of an old 1910 warehouse in the beltline. It's retro, urban, stylish, and everything I ever dreamed my dream studio to be. It sits above a teeny tiny quasi-French restaurant. Now the restaurant and I share a love of music so I thought the compatibility factor would be great initially. Unfortunately, we don't share the same sleep patterns and one of the chefs is partial to loud, bass thumping, blasts of profanity laced rap music. So at least once a week I am prevented from falling asleep, or occaisionally waking at ungodly hours of the gently dawning sky to screaming, angry young men rapping against a heavy bumping of rhythym and rhyme.
This morning however, I awoke to the gentle buzzing of the restaurant's alarm system at just after 04:00 hrs in the am. Is it sad that I preferred this sound to the shouting unhappiness of the rhyming rappers? It stayed on for quite some time and I, being an ex-guard for the RCMP, padded around the loft in my fuzzy pink slippers and jammies checking the windows to see what the fuss was about. After not hearing the cooking staff rushing about below to reset the noise, I assumed it may actually be a break-in. Usually there is smoke when I hear their alarms go off unexpectedly...but that's another story. So I decide I am going to dress in my robe and go down to check it out. My partner reminds me that there could be a very bad person down there. I gaze at him non-plussed and say "And so?". I am curiously unafraid of any likely or unlikely confrontation. Suddenly the alarm is silent and I hear, but don't see, the silent police cars creeping past at crawling warp. I know the sounds of Police checking out a possible break and enter and I am lulled off to sleep by their comforting presence below. I did not hear any rap music today, nor did I hear the usual diner laughter and happy noises that generally float up from their cozy little dining den. I didn't miss the music but I like to hear the sounds of people enjoying the company of friends over a good meal and I realized I missed the melody of cheer in my day.
So here ends the second lesson!
Thank you for visiting my Blog and don't forget to check your compass!
Okay seriously, here is a quick anecdote about my day in the studio. This beautiful loft I reside in, is on the second floor of an old 1910 warehouse in the beltline. It's retro, urban, stylish, and everything I ever dreamed my dream studio to be. It sits above a teeny tiny quasi-French restaurant. Now the restaurant and I share a love of music so I thought the compatibility factor would be great initially. Unfortunately, we don't share the same sleep patterns and one of the chefs is partial to loud, bass thumping, blasts of profanity laced rap music. So at least once a week I am prevented from falling asleep, or occaisionally waking at ungodly hours of the gently dawning sky to screaming, angry young men rapping against a heavy bumping of rhythym and rhyme.
This morning however, I awoke to the gentle buzzing of the restaurant's alarm system at just after 04:00 hrs in the am. Is it sad that I preferred this sound to the shouting unhappiness of the rhyming rappers? It stayed on for quite some time and I, being an ex-guard for the RCMP, padded around the loft in my fuzzy pink slippers and jammies checking the windows to see what the fuss was about. After not hearing the cooking staff rushing about below to reset the noise, I assumed it may actually be a break-in. Usually there is smoke when I hear their alarms go off unexpectedly...but that's another story. So I decide I am going to dress in my robe and go down to check it out. My partner reminds me that there could be a very bad person down there. I gaze at him non-plussed and say "And so?". I am curiously unafraid of any likely or unlikely confrontation. Suddenly the alarm is silent and I hear, but don't see, the silent police cars creeping past at crawling warp. I know the sounds of Police checking out a possible break and enter and I am lulled off to sleep by their comforting presence below. I did not hear any rap music today, nor did I hear the usual diner laughter and happy noises that generally float up from their cozy little dining den. I didn't miss the music but I like to hear the sounds of people enjoying the company of friends over a good meal and I realized I missed the melody of cheer in my day.
So here ends the second lesson!
Thank you for visiting my Blog and don't forget to check your compass!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Teeny Tiny Story (The Inaugural Blog)
Welcome to my blog! My marketing advisers have decided that I need a blog to reach all my many fans and friends. So as much as I protested, I see the entertainment value of a funny post so here is my very first daily story of starting my own business here in Calgary.
The Teeny Tiny Story...
Before I moved into my photography studio/loft in sunny downtown Calgary, I lived in a teeny tiny condo on Elbow Drive right in the Mission neighborhood of the SW. I paid a teeny tiny amount for rent and a teeny tiny amount for utilities. Then I decided to expand the business and open an actual location studio instead of just using my blackberry for my teeny tiny office.
I searched and searched for the perfect space. I looked everywhere and found a jewel of a studio not far from everything I need. The papers were signed, the packing begun, and off I went. I disconnected the services and paid my final bills, and one day, not long after, I received a credit on an invoice from an unnamed utility company. It was a teeny tiny credit of $6.97 so I contacted them and they sent me a teeny tiny cheque. Of course I have been quite busy with my normal 24 hour a day charity work and opening my photography studio and forgot about the teeny tiny cheque at the bottom of my camera bag. (still there right now!)
A few days ago, I received another invoice from the unnamed utility company for a teeny tiny $0.05. Of course my first reaction was a giggle, and a head shake. Today, I called the unnamed utility company and told them my teeny tiny story. The polite young man on the other end of the phone line verified all my information to discuss this matter of critical importance. Once we decided that I am who I claimed to be, I asked him to look up the details of the last two invoices and see if there may be anything that strikes him as a teeny tiny bit odd. He paused a teeny tiny bit before he spoke and the laughter in his voice was barely containable. He apologized for the teeny tiny error and wrote off the teeny tiny amount of 5 cents. The irony was not lost on either of us that it cost more to send the teeny tiny invoice than the actual amount and the fact that they had sent me a teeny tiny cheque for $6.97 a month previously because I had disconnected my account for September 1st.
Thank you for joining in for my Blog post today and don't forget to use your compass!
Cole Grey
The Teeny Tiny Story...
Before I moved into my photography studio/loft in sunny downtown Calgary, I lived in a teeny tiny condo on Elbow Drive right in the Mission neighborhood of the SW. I paid a teeny tiny amount for rent and a teeny tiny amount for utilities. Then I decided to expand the business and open an actual location studio instead of just using my blackberry for my teeny tiny office.
I searched and searched for the perfect space. I looked everywhere and found a jewel of a studio not far from everything I need. The papers were signed, the packing begun, and off I went. I disconnected the services and paid my final bills, and one day, not long after, I received a credit on an invoice from an unnamed utility company. It was a teeny tiny credit of $6.97 so I contacted them and they sent me a teeny tiny cheque. Of course I have been quite busy with my normal 24 hour a day charity work and opening my photography studio and forgot about the teeny tiny cheque at the bottom of my camera bag. (still there right now!)
A few days ago, I received another invoice from the unnamed utility company for a teeny tiny $0.05. Of course my first reaction was a giggle, and a head shake. Today, I called the unnamed utility company and told them my teeny tiny story. The polite young man on the other end of the phone line verified all my information to discuss this matter of critical importance. Once we decided that I am who I claimed to be, I asked him to look up the details of the last two invoices and see if there may be anything that strikes him as a teeny tiny bit odd. He paused a teeny tiny bit before he spoke and the laughter in his voice was barely containable. He apologized for the teeny tiny error and wrote off the teeny tiny amount of 5 cents. The irony was not lost on either of us that it cost more to send the teeny tiny invoice than the actual amount and the fact that they had sent me a teeny tiny cheque for $6.97 a month previously because I had disconnected my account for September 1st.
Thank you for joining in for my Blog post today and don't forget to use your compass!
Cole Grey
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)