This was a New Years to remember...

There I was with no plans for New Years ... no personal plans anyway. I had a few job offers but the lack of a proper budget prevented me from accepting the work. It wouldn't have even covered my cab fare there and back with all my gear. Frankly I was insulted at the offers available, so I had an invitation to spend it in a beautiful location with just the girls and a few adorable little people... (and when I say little people, I mean children) .

We left on the Friday afternoon and arrived a short while later. The 'cabin' was magnificent. A place I felt so at home in, like I had been there before but truly had never set eyes on previously. In fact I had drawn a picture of something meant to look exactly so when I was a teenager. The stunning views were ones I had had dreams about over the years since I was a girl. Each corner I turned brought a wave of deja vu, but I know I had never set foot there before.

As our midnight approached, we were all relaxed and really had no plan for the evening. Just us girls and the kids. There were no pretty fluffy dresses, masques, or tuxedos. Just most of us in PJ's and wrapped in warm blankets around a roaring fire, laughing with the kids, playing board games, dinner, and a movie. We were so engrossed in the movie, or perhaps half asleep in our cozy stupor, we didn't mark midnight until the neighbors on the iced over lake shot off fireworks. Startling as it was, it sounded like someone was banging on the windows at first. Then we saw the glittery explosions shoot past the windows like rockets in the night.
We toasted New Years and the texts and emails from loved ones far away arrived to all our phones like a tropical rainstorm, hitting us with all the drops at once.

The past year was a mixed bag of blessings, licking the wounds of my lost dream studio space. Rebuilding from the financial losses, which I am reminded of each time I pay a bill, or see the newly made money disappear like Houdini. The ending of weak and one sided relationships, the strengthening of bonds with clients that become trusted friends, and the blessed appearance of new friends that feel like centuries old connections.

With the passing of the old year comes a bright new future. The endless possibilities of this bright shiny 2012 are yet to be realized. I make my new business plan, budget, and forge ahead. Undeterred by the past mistakes I made, acknowledging them, and swearing to not repeat those same mistakes again. My 2012 looks pretty bright, still I have hope and optimism beating in my heart for success, love, and peace. Regardless of the lack of material wealth, I am blessed with a true circle of friends, regular photography clients I have big Buddha love for, and happiness in abundance. My hope for the future is for financial independence ( perhaps I should have picked a different profession.... Lol!), the ability to travel and use my skills to shed light on the issues of the oppressed, endangered, and cultural differences of the other lands we share the globe with, but don't yet understand. I'd like to experience the countries I've already seen, but this time with the eyes of my grown up self, with more money, more time to learn, and less rushing. I'd like to be a Duchess, a baker, a candlestick maker... Lol! Sorry, too much tea today...

I will live with more compassion, empathy, and understanding. I will forgive those that can't forgive themselves, but most of all, I will squeeze every last drop out of life cause that's what it's for. Here's to 2012, may it be a wealthy year full of good things for us all!

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

Last year on this date...

... I was in a last minute decision to move from my beloved new studio. The roof leaked, the repairs were not being completed by the land lord, functionally nor esthetically. The Cafe downstairs had twice almost burned us out. All the people who had encouraged me to open a location so they could book, seemed to vanish into thin air so the money was not coming in as had been promised. I was continually having to transfer from other accounts to keep up. As much as I loved the studio idea, it was proving to be a bigger hassle in the long run. The fire threat was the most uncomfortable thing and it being an old building, it would have gone up in a flash.

I reluctantly had to give notice to my landlord. They were unsympathetic and cold. They were business owners. They did what they had to do to make their justifications and I ended up paying a bigger price tag than I ought to have, just to be free of the albatross. I called my commercial insurance provider and explained the issue, I had said my main concern was the fire hazard of an ill managed Cafe. My agent had scoffed at my concern. Shortly after all of my pricey gear was out of the loft, the Cafe below burnt to the ground. I called my agent to make sure my insurance had been switched to the new address. When she found out about the fire, she was silent and said she would never doubt my intuition again. To this day, I think there is only a shell on the lower floors.

I picked myself up by my bootstraps and forged ahead. Being a mobile photographer was where I started, so back to it I went. Recovering from the financial loss is still a burden I deal with daily. I learned to conservation picture frame from the very best of the best in that field to supplement my income, but the cost of getting to and from work everyday, wore on me, and my dreams of being the photographer I wanted to be were gradually slipping away.

Here we are today, with endless possibilities ahead. Press releases, articles to be published, events to attend and write about, world famous music producers that make extraordinary espresso, iconic authors with book launches, and photo sessions to edit and deliver. My life has been anything but ordinary to this point. In fact, I don't know that I'd be able to manage an ordinary lifestyle.

I have yet to turn down the fantastic offer of a job in Central America that I was heralded for earlier this year. I keep waiting for the City of Calgary, that I love so much, to yield the financial crop I had been hoping for. This abundance has eluded me thus far. The warm Caribbean breezes beckon me still, and every time I have to discount my work yet again, because someone does not value my skill, the call of the warm blue sea builds to a roar in my ears.

After trips to paradise and excursions abroad, I've learned that my skills are far more valuable everywhere but home. I can honestly say I know very few photographers who have said anything different. In fact, most of the musicians I know have the same conundrum. There is one blues artist here in town who had to fight for anyone to recognize him here, and no one paid him any mind until he was signed to a plum gig in the US. His voice is what I think soft butter would sound like if it could make a sound. He is smooth, yet powerful with his delivery. His band and their songs are clever and catchy, very tight musically. He had to be recognized by a foreign entity to be taken seriously here at home. Just for the record, I always knew he was gifted and made mention of it to him frequently enough.

 I have possibly secured an assignment that is turning out to be everything I had hoped for. I am at present waiting for the final word of a start date. It will take 6 months to complete. I'll be in the air more than I'll be on the ground, and maybe even getting paid enough to pay my rent. It is not based out of Calgary, or even Canada. If this is the way, why shouldn't I move to the Caribbean. I can work in every other country just as easily from there... but I love my condo on the river. I love my friends here, my kids are here, my life is here, there is just no regular work here for what I do.

In the end, unfortunately, one can not live on love alone in this society. I could be Buddha-like all I want, but my landlord still wants his rent cheque, the grocery store still wants to be paid for all the food, the electric company does not love me back, and my internet provider does not take trades for photography. Here is my question then... why do people want me to work for free or below standard prices if they themselves don't work for free?

Hey! Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

Weirdest photo shoot ever!!!!

I've photographed some pretty interesting things in the past. I'd have to say the most interesting was when Sheikh Hamad took Qatar from his father, Sheikh Khalifa in a 'peaceful' coup d'état. Don't remember what year that was, I think it was in 95. The kids and I were living on the 10th floor of the Sofitel Hotel in downtown Doha. From my hotel room, I could see the whole of the city including the Emiri Diwan. It was eerily quiet for a city that usually wakes up at 4am to beat the heat of the day before 8am. The ports were closed so we couldn't get much more than grilled cheese sandwiches and bottled water for 3 days. That was back when I used a film camera. But those details will be in the book with the pictures I took.

So yesterday, I had a last minute engagement shoot in between the buildings downtown. The couple showed up in separate vehicles, not unusual. They appeared happy and totally immersed in each other. He, a charismatic American upper middle class 30 ish, polished, and well dressed. She, a tall willowy model type, also attractive, polished and well dressed, definitely Western European, well educated, undetermined age due to exceptional plastic surgery. They seemed to need to touch each other, even just slightly through the whole consultation bit of 15 minutes or so. The photo session is going very well. They look like a Ralph Lauren/Vogue advertisement. Our lighting was perfect, their energy and infectious laughter made for easy pictures. They had obviously both been photographed often.

Towards the end of the photo session, a dark car slowly edges to a stop close to our chosen point of location. Two tall, Armani suits step out with briefcases and cell phones in holsters. If you asked me to describe their facial features, I couldn't. But if you looked in any fashion magazine for some square jawed young corinthians, you'd probably have it close enough.

They stand behind me, just watching and talking on their cell phones. Based on their body language and sharp tones, They could have been talking to each other on their cell phones for all I know. We take a 5 minute break and the suits step forward to confer with my male client. The intended bride retires to her car to touch up her make-up for the umpteenth time, and when she returns, the suited bookends, and her beloved, all with the movie star smiles, step over to speak with the future Mrs. beloved. They extract folders and documents and hand her a pen. She reads the first page and her face turned bright red.  She reads a little further, cursed in a couple of languages that I won't repeat, throws the documents at the three smiling underwear models, and storms off to her car. The bookends immediately get on the cell phones. She is now sobbing in the back seat of her rental car, mascara and goo running down her face already. Her beloved is also on the phone, speaking rapidly to his parents, I am guessing.

As I'm watching this unfold, my facial expression must have been similar to what would happen if you were caught on the tines of a fork. I didn't want to be there, to witness this scene of destruction and betrayal. From what snippets I caught of the bookends conversation, the young man and his family had doubts about the girl, or maybe it was just his family. Either way, they sprang the prenuptial agreement on her without notice or opportunity to consult a lawyer. Not sure but she may actually be a lawyer. Hard to tell with all the languages she used while spewing her epithets at the 3. What I find odd is it was done in front of the photographer (me). Isn't this something you would do behind closed doors for this very reason? Or did they think I'd be crass enough to photograph the outburst if it was expected? I did not, in case you're wondering.

So as this is unfolding in front of me, it reminded me of my own divorce many years ago. We didn't have a prenuptial agreement, nor did we need one. I wanted custody of my kids and nothing else. There was no fight, I just wanted to be free from the neglect and careless treatment.

I was also reminded of a not so recent potential boyfriend. We went out a few times but it never progressed into anything meaningful. He was disillusioned about marriage and having to fork over half his estate to his bride of less than a year. I felt a little sorry for him as it sounded like there was potential there for something wonderful for the two of them, but his wounds were still fresh and gaping. I politely declined to be the transitional relationship. Quite recently, he contacted me to meet. He felt the need to apologize for whatever his indiscretions were back in the day. Then went on to say how, when discussing with friends,  how he wanted to get back into the dating scene, he was reminded how I had said if a man presented me with a prenuptial agreement, I would sign it. (Now I will bet my amazing lawyer is reading this and cringing at his computer desk, and I will probably get a lecture about that later). He is delicately trying to broach the subject of dating me for this reason alone, but has yet to pluck up his courage. I am not interested and will have to one day soon, I suspect, gently refuse his overtures.

Back in the day, marriages were arranged as a matter of business between two consenting families, and in some countries, they still are. The financials, disbursements, and transference of property were done by the elders of a village, the ruling families, and later the lawyers and oldest male heirs. Things were decided, right down to where the bride will live out her dowager years. (that's the final years after her husband has since departed this earth.)
The reality is, if you're going to marry in this day and age, you should expect something like a contract, number one, and number two, if you don't have any hidden agenda, sign the stupid documents. Just to note, don't spring it on your bride or groom last minute. Be intelligent, schedule lawyers for both parties and make it official. But do it in private, it's really no one's business what you decide.

I'm standing there scanning the images of the only moments before this blissfully unaware couple were attacked by the blindsiding of a necessary evil. Now entangled by lack of trust immediately equal on both sides, and a possibly intrusive family that now appears like they have been proven correct about the bride's intentions, I stowed my gear, returned the money to the disheveled former bride to be, and walked away. Thankfully, a few days prior, I had photographed a truly happy couple, who had been together long enough, (or already signed their agreement), to trust, love and honor each other. I went back to my editing room to review their pictures, and found myself thinking, there's hope for us all yet.

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

Train People ... part 2

When I am taking the train to anywhere in Calgary, it's always an adventure.

There are times when it's silent, everyone is sitting quiet with their headphones on, plugged in to their electronic devices to get a little privacy before or after a long workday. Then there are days when it's bustling, cramped and noisy, and then on occasion, very rarely, something happens and we all laugh.

One morning, the car I'm riding in is not overly full but every seat on the train is taken at my stop. The next stop, a kid gets on. He's maybe about 18 or 19 years old. Typical snowboarder wear, skate shoes and a hoodie. He has his IPod turned up so loud we can all hear the beat at the other end of the car. (definitely wasn't expecting Beyonce to be blaring from that boy's headphones, he looked more like a GreenDay kinda guy). He looks around very briefly, and stands beside the door.

 So the train jerks and groans to a start and we're all enjoying the sounds of Beyonce as we're rocking along and all of a sudden, a big tough male voice starts screaming obscenities. We can all hear it, but no one's lips are moving and then the voice repeats the same sentence over again after a brief pause. The woman (who's ear is just beside the pocket of this Beyonce listening kid's hoodie) yanks on the kids sweater and tells him his pocket needs a bath cause it has a dirty mouth. This kid is so absorbed in his Beyonce song, his eyes are closed and he's mouthing the words, having his own private little concert... in his head, he's not hearing her. After one more ring, she finally gets his attention and his face turns red as he's fumbling to get the phone out of his pocket ... before it rips into the potty mouth rant one more time. He grabs the phone and accidentally hits the volume button so now it's even louder. By this time we've all clued in on where the noise is coming from and we're all a little embarrassed for the kid and also a little amused. (At least those of us with a sense of humor were amused...) By the time he had finally answered it, we were all laughing out loud, and the poor kid of course can not sit down and try to be anonymous or anything , so he does the next best thing. Tells everyone on the train it's his Mom calling, so everyone please say hi to his Mom. Full train load of people saying hi to his Mom, in some small PEI town. After he was off the phone he told us she'd never been off the island and now she loves Calgary because everyone is so friendly to her little boy, and she thinks he must be safe in such a big city. I'm guessing he changes that phone ringer before he heads home to the Island for a visit.

So, as much as I like to poke fun at Calgary Transit for the poor planning and lack of consistent schedule, it's not all bad.

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

Train People ...

Between framing pictures, photography, race cars, and philanthropy pursuits, I get around the city quite well when my locations are on the train line or accessible by taxi. As many of you already know, I have finally buried my little white truck. It was sick for quite some time. It was 20 years old. You know, in truck years, for anything built after 1970 that's about 80 years old. We had some good times, my little truck and I. It was, sad to say, struck with a rare exhaust disorder. Then it gradually spread to the manifold, gaskets, and finally, it took over the carburetor. We held a small memorial down by the river, where we parked and had picnics together. Sad day... but anyway... anyone know where I can sell some scrap metal? Lol!

So now I walk mostly, take a taxi if I'm carrying a lot of gear, or I take the train. If you're bored and have a limited budget, I strongly suggest taking the train. Rush hour is a fun trip. The first two cars of the train are usually jammed full while the last two are almost empty. This I find quite amusing. Now not that I'm knocking Calgary Transit, because yesterday, they were running on time. At least the train I took was on time.

Usually, if I'm heading up to the frame shop at the tail end of rush hour, the train has been on average, maybe 20 minutes late. It's supposed to run at 10 min intervals by the time I get there, but more often than not, I will just miss the 3 trains that come less than 5 minutes apart, and then not another one for 20 minutes. The first few times, I was not impressed, but then I giggled ridiculously after the 4th time this happened. My entertainment value was the realization that they were nothing if not consistently 20 min late. I adjusted my time to leave my place 5 min earlier, still the same result, and then another 5 minutes earlier, still the same. Then at 15 minutes earlier than I really should have to be there, that was the ticket! I finally caught the train and ended up where I needed to be on time. Quite an ordeal but one learns.

Once I thought I had it down, another twist in the plot. One morning, during summer schedule, I arrived at the station in time to have the driver quickly open the doors and then shut them before I could step on the train, departing in a whoosh of air. I foolishly thought another one would be along shortly, no big deal. I waited, and waited, and waited, 20 minutes went by and no train in sight. 4 went by going the other direction, but not one going into the down town core. It was quiet, there was no traffic on the McLeod Trail ... a little eerie feeling creeps up your spine when there is nothing happening on a usually bustling thoroughfare. Finally I see the train coming in my direction, and the driver was obscured by shadow in his teeny little cockpit. It was a little strange. Stranger yet was the fact that not another soul was on the train. I stepped on the train and it lurched to a crawl and headed off to the next stop. I am at this point, the only person on the whole train. Not just my car ( the last car) but on the train. No one gets on at the next stop... (cue creepy music here) . The train jerks and struggles to begin it's journey onward, and as it descends into the first tunnel, it is picking up speed. I am now alone, on an empty train, heading into the bowels of the earth at a gravitational stripping speed, and my train driver is some unidentified shadow character. Either a Stephen King movie, or a Bugs Bunny cartoon, could go either way here.
Finally at the still as yet unopened City Hall stop... ( picture the afore mentioned train to hell stopping at the as yet unopened City Hall Station... can this really get any creepier? ) ... a guy gets on wearing a suit, and no kidding, he looked like that suit wearing guy from the Matrix series of movies, Mr Anderson. I always thought the dark would be a creepy setting for a scary movie, but I have to be honest, dead silent normally crowded city streets and an empty train in the mid morning sunlight is really creepy.  So I'm looking at this suit wearing guy and kind of giggling to myself about the absurdity of it all. Could this get any funnier?

That's part one of this story... tune in next week for part two of Train People!
And don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

The Curse Of the Digital Black Book!!!!

At some point yesterday, I had only partial service on my cell phone. I was receiving calls up until about 2 p.m. and then only emails and FB messages after that. Home I go and I call my wireless provider to see what the problem was.
I spoke to a really polite girl who gave me a rehearsed answer she read off of a sheet of paper. I asked when the service would be repaired and how much intermittent service there would be. She didn't have an answer for that.

The dilemma I face is simple, it's the only phone number every one of my business contacts has. I still have email, facebook, twitter, linked-in, and two tin cans with the string attached, but my cell phone is so convenient. I now feel kind of naked and exposed without it. It amazes me that I've become so dependent on the little piece of electronic shrapnel. I went for years as a hold out, I wasn't getting a cell phone ever, I said. I always thought that if someone really wanted to get a hold of me, they'd leave a message. Then I became a single parent that worked all the time. I sucked up my pride and bought the first one. After a few weeks with the little pocket sized communicator, and it did look exactly like a Star Trek communicator, I was hooked. It was so easy to just call the kids and check on them, make sure the homework was getting done, that they got rides from another parent after hockey practice and ski training, that they were in bed on time when I worked nights for the RCMP. It was so simple.
Then I opened my own business and it was so easy to just carry my office with me. My phones have all been really great for multi-tasking. My appointment schedule is in my phone, my emails, facebook and twitter access for marketing, and of course all the numbers from my Rolodex from years of traveling, networking, and meeting friends were all added. Here's the funny thing, I can still remember phone numbers from when I was 10 years old because I had to memorize them all or write them down in an address book. Today, not a chance, they're all on my cell phone on speed dial. I think my brain has become cell phone lazy. If I had to recall my mother's phone number off the top of my head... couldn't do it.

So here I am, taking a day to shuffle some personal business around, and I am at a loss without my cell phone to complete some important tasks. Even my on-line banking is done from my cell phone so often, as I'm almost always running from one job to the next, that using my computer to transfer funds seems obsolete. Sad but true... I have become something I said I'd never be... a digital junkie.

Today, because I have all this personal business to attend to and I have lost access to some critical points of communication, I'm taking a minute to evaluate the cell phone... is it really necessary? Would my photography business survive without it? Would I be able to pick phone numbers out of thin air like I used to do, not too many years ago? Do I really have to text, email, and FB anyone within minutes where business is concerned? Hmmm ... things to consider.

After careful review, some parts of the wireless addiction I am not sure I want to give up. I can email, text, or call my clients at will if the weather changes an outdoor shoot to an indoor shoot. My kids can reach me anywhere, anytime, any day if they need to, 24 hours a day.  I like being able to text my girlfriends for Sunday Breakfast if I'm going to be late... Lol! ( of course this will make them laugh) .
But after that, do I really need it? I called my cell phone provider to inquire into the process of canceling the service, not that I was married to that decision, but just seeing what the process would entail. The bottom line is that it's too expensive to opt out of the digital age at this time, it would blow my tightly wound budget to shreds. So that ends the dream of kicking the digital habit right there! Lol!

Today, I will have to actually walk to the bank to take care of business. I haven't been inside a real bank in months. Is the process there still the same? The digital age is changing by the microsecond so who really knows what's next? Will I be digitally x-rayed like they do at the airports? Do I need a computer chip embedded under my skin so they can just scan me as I step up to the counter? What about biometrics? If I stick my thumbprint on a screen, can they just transfer the money from one account to another? Or maybe a retinal scan? I DID NOT SAY RECTAL I said RETINAL. There are also retinal scans at some airports for airport staff and frequent cross border travelers.

Digitally, I think I've covered all the possibilities of what happens without the cell phone. It chaos really. In a world where everything we do depends on the advances we make technologically, we could be in for a rude awakening if a meteor really did knock out our communications satellites.

As far as the digital black book goes... yes I have that in my cell too and not sure I want to discard that little gem either!

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

The Building ...

I"ve lived in a few different places in my life time. I have to say, my favorite place in Calgary is here in Mission. Where I was living for the past 6 months was sweet, but I needed more bang for less bucks. I was looking for a solution, but having no luck. Out of the blue, my old building manager called and said "Hey, little girl..., one of the south facing units on the river opened up, you interested?" Was I ever. The timing was perfect. Just when you think all hope is lost, something comes out of the blue to rescue you. Funny how that works if you're open to it.

So after giving notice at the mansion, and I must say my landlords there, totally got where I was comng from and were incredible about me moving out. I did give more than enough notice and they understood my situation. I will miss them dearly, very kind and gracious human beings. There are people renting locations in this city who could take a few lessons from the mansion landlord's textbook. We all know who I'm talking about... Lol!

After a brief bit of wrangling, with the help of my Son, Son-in-law, my Daughter and their friends, I was moved. Because Peter Appleby was kind enough to let me use his cube van, he deserves a nice little shout out. A Remax agent with a big heart... he's 6 foot 8" .... so that's also literal... look him up if you need to buy or sell.

I am in my new building, boxes and furniture scattered everywhere, very little room to move. I have a bit of work ahead of me. As I'm standing on the front stoop chatting with my building manager, people come and go. He introduces me to all of them, and tells what suites everyone is in. Very congenial crowd. I went out with some of my beautiful and brilliant friends tonight to a non-descript club in the middle of no-man's-land here in Calgary. We had the best wings I've ever had, truely. When I arrived home at a reasonable hour, I decided to skip the unpacking, take a little longer breather and head to the cafe to write and edit. As I'm locking my door and heading out, in the hallway are two of my previous building mates. It's like old home week and we're laughing and chatting, hugs and stories were exchanged, and truthfully, I could have stood there in that hallway all night and gabbed with my old friends. We all moved to different places and ended up back together, like college roommates bumping into each other in the big city. I took over the suite of someone who everyone of us had had a run-in with at one point or another. We've decided we will have a building christmas party this year, a great big open house where we can all socialize together and laugh as loud as we want without fear of offending anyone else.

I must say, my suite overlooks the Elbow River, at the end of a quiet avenue. Barely any traffic, kind of quiet. I watched the sunset from my bedroom window yesterday, through the leaves of one of the giant old trees in my front yard and was speechless at the quality of the light. Then I woke up briefly at 4am, I could hear the water trickling and leaping it's way to somewhere else. Sweetest sound I've ever heard. Yes, I am grateful.

Things are looking good, business is picking up, slowly but surely. Nothing like being paid to do what you love. I still volunteer as often as I can, I have many beautiful and brilliant friends on the rise and at the top of their field. We seem to all be rising at relatively the same pace, and those that lag behind a bit, we all pull together to lift each other up. It's amazing the difference between what once was and what is. The kindness of strangers, the gifts of opportunity from new friends and old, meeting the people you know and love by chance, and having the same amazing feeling that everything is going to be okay. As I was told by one of my dear friends this evening... "Now all we have to do is find you a truehearted boyfriend and everything will be perfect!" Plenty of offers there but I'm still waiting for the right Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet. .... LOL!

Hey! Don't forget to check you Compass!

Cole