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

In the blink of an eye ...

This year so far has been a bit of a mixed bag for business. I've done some corporate, a lot of photojournalism, sports of course, some portraits...which I swore I wouldn't do any more, and a fair amount of non-profit stuff. Lets discuss portrait for a bit.

One of the things most recently invented for the photo industry is Photoshop, and by recently I'm meaning in the last 20 years. I would love to extoll the virtues of Photoshop but I find it is taken to the extreme more often than not. If you're tryning to create an original work of art from a photograph this does not apply. The creativity is boundless with this software and koodos to those that can manipulate the program to make it bend and sway with the breeze.

I personally love the program to touch up my lighting when I do photojournalism style work, or do the work that burning and dodging would have done in the good old days of darkrooms and chemicals. After that, I leave it to the graphic artists to make magic. I do my magic with my camera on site. As I said before, good lighting can make or break your images.

My only reason for not doing portraiture as a steady income, is about photoshop. I could make a fortune with the requests I get, but how far will I go to destroy my 28 years of honing my craft. The skill is in the lighting and the camera operation, not in the photoshop. If you have to spend more than a few minutes editing each picture, you need to head back to photography school. It's a wonderful program for touching up a blemish, dark circles, and brightening the eyes. I've been asked to 'make me look 20 pounds thinner, can you straighten my nose a bit, my husband forgot to shave today, could you edit out his 5 o'clock shadow, I can't get my son to sit still can you take him out of that picture and edit him in to a different one..." etc etc etc. You get what I'm saying. Last I checked, I did not go to medical school or graduate with a degree in reconstructive surgery, barber school, or nanny college. If you require these services, hire the professionals who did graduate with those designations because I have to say... they are the people I call when I need those things taken care of.

My kind of photography is the kind that tells a story. I love to capture a moment, sometimes they are so fleeting, that one second of timing, is the difference between an amazing photo that will sell 200,000 more newspapers and one that gets deleted.

I once did a photosession for a large family. A Mom and Dad, 4 children. The 2nd youngest was not quite 5 and very shy. She spent the hour or so, hiding behind her parents, or her siblings. My staff and I tried all kinds of tricks to coax her out of her shell during traditional poses, and then I asked the family if they minded just playing games with her and their other children on the floor in front of the backdrop.  She relaxed and played and still her expression did not change. The last game was the one that stuck. I made it so in the end they all had to look up at me at the same time during the game, even though she was hiding behind her next older sibling, she peaked out and smiled just the barest of smiles.

When the Mom and Dad returned a week later to look at the proofs, they cried when they saw that photo. Their little girl had never smiled in a photo, or ever for that matter. She was born with a rare disease where it was not possible to smile. She had become so self concious of this fact in her very young life that when she saw a camera, she hid. We had her relaxed and playing, laughing so much that her laugh and the light in her eyes looked like a smile. The picture was natural and untouched by photoshop. The Mom had said she had given up on family portraits because it upset their little girl so much, and when other photographer's tried to make her smile with photoshop, it didn't look like her face it was always so distorted. This one I did for them was a moment every mother in her situation could dream of, and we made that moment happen for them.

I do my best to get a natural picture. Some of the best images I have ever taken was when no-one was looking at me and my camera, they were looking at each other or simply enjoying the moment. This is why I love photography so much. It's about the moments remembered that make you smile, cry, or laugh. If you string all those moments together for a lifetime, you have stories to tell, giggling to do, or maybe a few tears to remember a loved one who has passed on. I want to see the real you in a photo. Not the image of what you wished you looked like or the fantasy. I want to be able to see the wrinkles, baby fat, big feet, school kids with missing front teeth, and Grandma wearing a purple turban cause she thinks it makes her look like Betty Davis. These are things that I see as character. Being able to look at a photo and say " I can't believe I wore that." may seem like a bad thing to others, but I see it as who you were then.

My advice ... be who you are in your photos, so in 50 years, when you have time on your hands and your grandkids or other little people are visiting, you have stories to tell about that moment. Not a fantasy of who you thought you were back then.

Just sayin.... Lol! Don't forget to check your Compass!

Cole

Cafe Day!

Not sure what the deal is with my Internet, but haven't been able to get access for a week. We recently had some road construction in my neighborhood... again, so maybe they shook something loose in the cable box outside. I've been trying, in vain really, to reach my cable company for a solution or discussion on the issue. It's not that big of a deal right now, I only have work during the day that keeps me quite busy, and trying to reach anyone after six at their office is a minimum two hour wait... yeah ... not happening. Instead of waiting on the problem to fix itself, which it seldom ever does, I did the next best thing. Dragged out my old wrecked PC laptop and headed to the local Cafe to work for the afternoon. Now, I always use a Mac for my photography, my PC just doesn't have the power to keep up and it only works when it feels like it. (I think it's a little jealous of the sweet little Mac I bought.)

Today however, it seems to be doing okay, as long as I keep one leg propped on the chair, my phone on the table beside me, and my beverage must be at a perfect 45 degree angle to the screen. Any slight variation and the battery shuts the whole operation down... ( considered asking the guy beside me to hold his empty coffee cup up over his head just as a backup but he didn't seem to be the type to think that was funny.)

As I build my contracts and my new tender for bid on a job, people come and go. If I had been thinking, I'd have brought my camera today. I am seldom without it, but today I needed to focus on the paperwork. At my little table in the front of the cafe, eyes on the screen, every so often I see someone come in and take a seat at the table beside me, or the one across. They sit alone and sip a beverage, or a couple have quiet conversation, a family of well dressed Italians came in and occupied the nest of tables to my left. They were laughing and loud. I enjoyed their witty conversation, although I only understood half of it. (note to self... must drag out old Italian school books to brush up a bit) The woman alone came in after they departed for their dinner reservation and read the paper, fully engrossed in it, she only looked up once. A smaller stocky man asked to share the chairs next to her and she briefly indicated it was free without saying a word and only nodding the briefest of inclination.

Observation is the greatest gift to a photographer. We may notice things that other's would overlook. Expression is the first thing I see. We are usually well adept at defining the mood of another with a glance.

Natural lighting is the next thing I see. I spend a few moments assessing whether I would leave it as is or add a fill light in a spot or two, or maybe just a reflector to add a little warmth if the lighting is a little cold and moody looking. Never underestimate the skill it takes to make you look amazing. Good lighting can really make a photograph say many things. Poorly done lighting can make you look 10 years older, heavier, morose, or cold. My favorite piece of advice came from a very famous actress who has since passed. She advised us all that she could care less about her directors, her make-up, her sound, but her lighting must be just perfect. She stated she always made friends with her lighting techs first as they could make her look as she wished to appear, not as she really was. (I actually had a very well respected concert sound tech say much the same thing about some of the famous singers we had both had the privilege to work with. Make friends with your sound guys or the mix that comes out of the board will sound a lot different than what you were hoping for!)

I have been very privileged to work with some amazing clients. They know exactly what they want and I have made their requests materialize with what looks to be a complicated process but is actually something I can do with my eyes closed. If you know what your equipment is capable of, this is not unusual.

Back here at the cafe, I watch the coffee crowd ebb and flow and think of my amazing camera, all alone on my editing desk. Still full of life from my last experimental outing, and I wish I had brought it along. The crowd is definitely a mixed bag of types and stop time images from my table with a wide angle to grab the whole scene would have been an amazing photo study. The early evening light is streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows, warming the already chocolate brown wood shelving units, stocked and stacked with coffee products. The staff is tidying the tables and restocking their bank of mini coolers for the next wave of caffination.

Time to get back to work on the Race Team stuff. Deadlines are looming and I have limited power with this questionable old PC...

Until next time... don't forget to check your Compass!

Cole

Photographing love and other stuff....

The weather is beautiful today and here I am, sitting in front of my computer, editing and prepping some promo material for the race team. I went for a walk just to clear my head in the wee hours of the morning. Skirting the main roads and keeping to the river mostly. I ended up all the way down by Memorial Park after I left the muddy banks for a bit. The grass was still dewy and soft. There was a homeless guy sleeping on the bench, a guy walking his dog, a woman riding her cadillac of a town bike looking like she was late and had to be somewhere, and a couple, maybe in their mid twenties. They were dressed in whatever clothes they had on from the night before. Her make-up faded and smudged, his hair a little disheveled and suit clearly rumpled.

As much as they were all out of sorts, they glowed. There was no maidenly shyness or tough guy trying to hide his feelings. As they talked quietly and whispered secrets to each other, they showed no censure or shame in their emotional state. It was like watching the happy ending of a fairy tale.

I watched them from the distance for a bit and just as I was about to turn away and head for home, the homeless guy on the bench came up behind me and sat down beside me. He was watching them too, most of the night since the bars closed(2 am?). He said at first he was tempted to tell them to shove off so he could get some sleep. He said he couldn't explain it, but hearing them laugh and coo at each other like little birds made him remember a time in his own life where that was still possible. So he left them be. His eyes teared up and he said "...it's beautiful isn't it? To love like that...?" I smiled at his question and said "Yes it must be."  When I stood up to leave he stood up and bowed to me like a member of the Queen's court and said "Good day My Lady." I giggled and gave him my best mocking curtsey and we went in opposite directions.

He asked that I not photograph him because you never know when "They" are watching. I didn't ask who "They" were and wasn't sure he even knew but the whole scene was just cute as it was so I didn't see the sense in lessening the romance of it. I did photograph the couple from the back. Her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, the sun coming up beside them. From the front I didn't want to intrude. They looked as if they were fighting to stay awake and not miss a second of time with each other. It looked as if they were reluctant to end such a perfect date. That maybe if they just stayed there, the perfect date would never end. Thank goodness for a zoom lens.

My question for all of you is this ... do you still love this way? With true abandon? Can you throw your whole being into it and give another pure unconditional love without suspicion, judgement, or reserve...?

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole

Hangin with the Amish!

I was away this past weekend in the Eastern US, mainly in Pennsylvania, but I did make it to Lewes, Delaware ( the first town in the very first State in the US ), Cape May New Jersey, Atlantic City NJ, and of course one of my favorites, Manhattan. It was a balmy 37 degrees, that's 102 Fahrenheit for all my American friends. As we all know, I love the heat, even miss the choking 50 degrees of the Middle east at times.

I was lucky enough to be escorted around by a man I admire and respect, who commands the race team I was there to learn about. He drove me around endlessly to all the places he had probably been to a million times over throughout his life so far, and patiently answered my unending stream of questions about the area, it's inhabitants, the weather, the soil, the water, the history, the architecture, and on and on and on. I pestered him constantly about the race team, the process of owning the team, running the team, managing the press, negotiating the sponsors, and anything else that came up.

In our travels, we sped past a field of fresh cut hay. The farmer out cutting the hay, was a young boy, maybe 12 or so. His clothes were that of a boy from the 1800's. Thick black boots, laced up past his ankles, black simple straight leg trousers, black suspenders, a deep blue solid shirt, and a pair of Aviator sunglasses. He stood on the front lead of a manual swather, and in his already calloused young hands, he held the reins and drove a team of four big sturdy work horses. (a swather is used to cut crops in the field and lays them in perfect little lines that you have to go back and pick up later ). The dust kicked up in the heat behind the team and the cutting was thick and dry. The boy, not really a boy, but not yet a man, drove the team with a skill that looked as if he had been doing it for years and was a seasoned expert, which he probably had and probably was. As the dust flew forward and I caught the picture with surprising clarity and amazing natural back lighting, I wondered if he ever missed the TV shows, current styles of his contemporaries, ever talked back to his parents, got in trouble at school, or missed a day of chores because he has hockey practice or homework to do. Then I realized, how do you miss what you've never had to be concerned with? How do you miss doing the chores when everything depends on you bringing in the harvest before it rains and moulds in the field?

It amazes me how much we take for granted. I grew up with no running water, plywood floors in our 'little Hippie House on the Prairie'. We cut our own hay, stooked it up, hauled it to the barn for the winter feed stock and now and then I catch myself using these current little conveniences without remembering how simple life was without them. As we drove away from the field with the young Amish boy cutting his hay, I silently mulled over the things I didn't have as a child compared to what I have now. I am really happy for all these little things but I wondered... do I really need all this stuff? I filed the thought away until I could think about it some more, and here I am, writing it out here in this blog post to you fine people that are kind enough to spare five minutes to read my gentle ramblings. How much in life do we really need? The Amish live simply, without a lot of extra stuff. Why do we feel we need so much stuff?

So here's my question to you all... take a couple of minutes to think about this.
If you had to live without electricity, indoor plumbing, telephones, vehicles, and all the other modern conveniences you have, could you manage without them?

I am pretty sure I could, but not so sure I would want to. I like being able to answer a call from my Daughter or my Son at any given time of day. (Yes Shayne, even when you call me at 2 am after a night of debauchery with your buddies just to say how grateful you are that I'm your Mom and how much you love me and appreciate all the sacrifices I made for you)
 I like being able to flick the switch on the wall and have a room instantly blink to life before I enter it. I like knowing that my friends in other parts of the world are safe and dry when I have time to catch the nightly news blurbs. Now that I am taking the train or taxi's everywhere, I really don't miss having a vehicle, until I realize I needed to pick something up from a place in town that is not easily or quickly accessible by public transit. All these little things seem insignificant until you have to do without them.

Just sayin'

In case you didn't know, please don't forget to take a minute or two to visit my advertisers on the right of the page. They all have some interesting stuff to talk about too!

Don't forget to check your Compass!
Cole