The planet gets tanked

Petroleum dreams
London, ON
March 2010
Click here for more Thematic grey

Lots of debate in the Great White North over pipelines. Specifically, the Keystone pipeline, and the broader issue of Canada's oil production capability and what we're willing to do as a nation to sell it to the rest of the world.

As the arguments rage this way and that, the headlines bring us something akin to an ultimate irony: an Exxon-owned pipeline in Mayflower, Arkansas ruptured, spilling Canadian crude all over local backyards and forcing homeowners to be evacuated.

I realize that we've pretty much guaranteed our addiction to dinosaur-juice for the forseeable future. Any my owning a car means I'm one of the billions of people on this planet who are contributing to the problem. Indeed, we're all part of the demand-side problem that makes pipelines through the backyards of regular folks a sad necessity of modern life.

There are no easy solutions to any of this, but it still strikes me as somewhat tragic that decades after the first so-called "oil crisis", we still haven't taken anything beyond tentative steps to figuring it out. We happily maintain our petroleum-based reality and in doing so continue to pump untold billions into the coffers of nations whose most notable contributions to humankind involve being situated in the right stretch of oil-soaked desert. If only we had seriously invested in technology that would have broken the chain sooner.

I know, I know: hard challenges, and no easy answers. But still...where's the will?

As I walked through this East London neighborhood and snapped this scene, I wondered how much longer we'd be having this conversation. And how much longer some of us would cast wary glances out the back door of the house.

Your turn: Will we live to see the day when our economy is no longer mostly based on oil-based energy?

Grey path to nowhere

Landscape of little color
Komoka, ON
November 2012
Click here to share your own Thematic grey contribution

A funny thing happens in autumn, just after all the leaves have fallen and just before the snow covers it all up. The landscape seems to become almost monochrome.

Sure, if you look closely you'll see flashes of color buried deep in the margins - like a stray leaf or two in the middle of a pile of muted browns. But overall, it still seems like Mother Nature sucked the life out of what was, just a few days before, a riotous explosion of a rainbow.

Of course we all know the color will return next year. First, the bright, hopeful greens of budding leaves and flowers, then the full spectrum of summer foliage. This sense of greyness descending on our world is only temporary. But for now, the leaching effect of late fall seems to give pause to the fact that we'll have to live without it all for a few months, and if we really want to experience it in the coming months, we'll have to close our eyes and imagine hard.

Perhaps absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder.

Your turn: Seasons changing. Good, bad or indifferent?

On one of life's tougher lessons

"There is a lesson we learn early and harmlessly, or late and traumatically - that there are things we can break that our parents can't fix."
Robert Brault

Over the edge

Where almost no one walks
Laval, QC
September 2012
For more Thematic grey, head here

It's a forgettable concrete footpath in an otherwise forgettable development, the kind of landscape that countless people might walk through, but no one ever seems to take the time to pause and drink it in.

Indeed, this stretch of bad-1970s landscape design almost seems to discourage such behavior, as if it wants you to hurry anywhere else so you won't have to be here any longer than you have to.

Yet with a little sneaky-eyed composition you can find ways to make this forgettable place a little more memorable. Looking at this shot, I feel like I almost want to return here. Almost.

Your turn: Do you take the time to enjoy the ordinary places around us? Got an example of one?

Cinquecento in the wild

Waiting by the tracks
Milton, ON
November 2012
Click here to share your own grey-themed Thematic

There isn't a whole heck of lot you can do when a train inserts itself between where you are and where you'd like to be. You can either sit there and stew, or you can sit back and enjoy the scenery.

I generally prefer to do the latter. Because life's too short to fret. And as you can see here, I had some pretty interesting scenery to take in.

No, the Fiat 500 isn't going to inspire children to quit school so they can design cars. That's what Ferraris and Lamborghinis are for. But it has a certain charm all its own. And the glowing red lights and red paint seemed to make a nice counter to the gloomy sky and slick roads. Besides, the number on the plate would make Iron Maiden proud.

On this day, I was glad the train gave me an extra couple of minutes to reflect. Wish that would happen more often.

Your turn: What do you see when you take the road less travelled?

On choosing people carefully

"Sometimes the most ordinary things could be made extraordinary, simply by doing them with the right people."Elizabeth Green

Which begs the question: who are your right people? And what makes them right in the first place?

Thematic Photographic 237 - Grey

Love me
London, ON
April 2011

I've chosen grey as this week's Thematic theme for two reasons. First, I rather liked the response to last week's white theme, and felt this would be a natural extension of sorts. Second, the world's just a little greyer for my little brood these days, and being the creative that I am, I'm pretty lousy at keeping what's going on inside my head from bubbling up to the surface in some way.

So grey it is. And I figured what better way to kick an otherwise dark topic off with a little bundle of Frasier-centred brightness. He can't talk - not that we can understand, anyway - but he has a way of connecting with people that absolutely transcends normally established channels of communication.

Which is my way of saying he brings an enormous amount of color into our world.

Your turn: The Thematic drill is a simple one. First, take a pic that evokes the theme. It's totally up to you how you'd like to interpret it. Second, post it to your blog or website. Third, leave a comment here. Fourth, visit other participants to spread the photographic joyness (yup, it's a word.) Fifth, come back as often as you wish, as there's no limit to any of this. For more info on how Thematic works, just click here. And please accept my thanks for bringing the color here each and every week.

On mortality

"And all I kept thinking, over and over, was; you can't live forever, you can't live forever."F. Scott Fitzgerald

He was right, of course. And I'm not entirely sure anyone would really want to live forever. Maybe if we just got a bit more time, with a bit more happiness, a bit more health, and were surrounded by better people.

Um, sure.

One more thing: Thematic's new theme, grey, goes live tonight at 7:00 Eastern. Hope you'll join us.

Vanity be thy name

My name in metal
London, ON
November 2012

If they wish to take advantage of it, Ontarians have the privilege of paying a few hundred bucks to the cash-strapped government to choose, within non-profane reason, what they get to put on their license plates.

I've never really understood the need - I'd rather drive anonymously, without a virtual billboard on the front and back of my car - but hey, if it floats your boat, it's not my place to stand in anyone's way.

Besides, it makes for a fun pastime while we're on the road, as some vanity plate owners can be downright creative with the up-to-eight letters that they've been granted.

For the record, this is not my vehicle. I don't know who owns it, but I've seen it around town enough times that I'm pretty sure they live close by. I do wish they'd give it a bit of a scrub, though. I don't like seeing my name covered in road grime.

Your turn: What's the most memorable vanity plate you've ever seen?

One more thing: This plate is white. Well, kinda white. Coincidentally, our Thematic theme is white, too. We're still collecting submissions here. Because it's never too late to grab some lens time.

Scene from a diner

Breaking bread over formica
Toronto, ON
March 2013
Wanna share your own Thematic? Click here

The world around us has been paved over by chain stores and global brands. While they offer the kind of consistent experience that consumers love - you know exactly what you're going to get whether you're around the corner or halfway across the country - it's just as true that we lose something in the process.

Essentially, they're all the same. There's nothing to differentiate a Tim Hortons in Toronto from one in Vancouver. Centralized, homogenized control over the experience makes it hard to connect the experience to the specific location where it happens. We're losing our sense of place, our ability to differentiate places from one another.

This is what seemingly compelled me to capture this moment at a bagel place on Steeles in Toronto. It's been there seemingly forever, and the characters who work and eat there are tightly woven into the fabric of this place. Sure, we had lunch there. But the real experience was drinking in the overlapping conversations floating through the room. This would simply never happen at a Tims, at least not as richly or memorably. Pity that we're allowing these places to disappear.

Your turn: Why does local matter? What does it feel like to you?

On Shakespearean wisdom

"Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none."
William Shakespeare

Hmm...half a millenium old and still oh so relevant.

Behold a frosty door

 Grab on
Mississauga, ON
December 2012
Click here for more Thematic white

Technically, spring arrived in the northern hemisphere this week. In reality, we still live in the middle of a winter wonderland.

So be it. Especially if it means scenes like the one you see here. You're looking at a Subaru BRZ after it's been sitting in a frosty parking lot for a good chunk of the night. I couldn't stop staring at the door when I first came across it, as it reminded me just how powerful a force nature can be.

Well, maybe powerful isn't the right word here. Perhaps deft. Or subtly artistic. Or delicately gifted. It doesn't really matter how I choose to describe it. What matters is that it happens in the first place. And we take the time to drink it all in before it disappears for good.

Indeed, barely 15 minutes after I took it, the sun was up and the frost was gone. I'm glad I drank it in while I still could.

Your turn: A time when you stopped and smelled the proverbial roses before they were gone. Please discuss.

The shocking beauty of this land

Fractured land
Somewhere in the Canadian Rockies
February 2013
Click photo to embiggen (you'll want to...)
Head here for more Thematic white

I'm posting this in honour of Canadian Astronaut Chris Hadfield. He's currently Commander of the International Space Station and a rising Twitter superstar because of the remarkable pictures he's been taking his entire time in orbit. Earlier this week, he said the only frustrating thing about being in space was not being able to sleep less, because he'd use that additional time to float over to the window and shoot more pictures.

Definitely a guy I can relate to, and not simply because he grew up a few kilometers down the road from where I live.

My lesson from watching him do the incredible things he does, with a spirit that can only be described as inspirational: Treasure every day you're given. Because being alive means you get to see stuff like this.

That is all.

Thematic Photographic 236 - White

Not going anywhere
Toronto, ON
February 2013

The groundhogs apparently got it wrong, as despite their prediction of an early spring, winter shows no signs of loosening its grip on the region anytime soon.

I'm not going to lose any sleep over it, mind you, because it's rather pointless to fret over things we cannot control. There are so many better ways to expend energy.

Like...this! I've been away from Thematic for a bit. Life threw us a curve and unlike in baseball, we don't simply get up, dust ourselves off and move on. The process is a lot more ponderous than that, and I'm deeply thankful for the notes of encouragement I've received from all of you over these past few weeks.

So here we go. A little late. And not quite "there" yet. But getting there. Because there really is no other choice.

Onward...

Your turn: Please share a photo that reflects, supports or otherwise evokes this week's Thematic theme, white. As ever, how you interpret it is entirely up to you: there are no rights and wrongs in this game. Share a pic on your blog or website, then leave a comment here letting folks know where to find it. Visit other participants to share the joyness of all that is Photographic (yes, I make up words.) Click here for more background on how Thematic works. Thanks gang...it's good to be somewhat back.

Looking in the mirror

Jewish rituals surrounding mourning are incredibly complex. There's a rule for everything, for every moment, for every place, even for the clothes you wear.

It may seem overwhelming, and on a certain level it certainly is. But at the same time it's somewhat comforting to know that there's a given structure or cadence to the process, that over the centuries successive generations of folks far wiser than I'll ever hope to be have pondered the matter and applied as close to a logical framework as one can add to the illogical process of death and irreplaceable loss.

I could start an entirely new blog just on the topic alone, spend the rest of my life writing about it, and still not even scratch the surface. But I'd like to touch on an interesting snippet that seems to have stuck with me as we've moved, foggily, through these past few difficult weeks. It revolves around mirrors.

The basic tradition is a simple one: no mirrors in a Jewish house of mourning. You're not supposed to be able to look at yourself, so every mirror is covered up - either with smudged on stuff or taped-on paper or some other substance. My in-laws' place, festooned as it was with mirrors by the previous owner, presented an especially significant challenge, and I think more than a couple of trees were felled to make the paper and masking tape needed to cover all of them.

The sliding door near the front door presented a bit of a challenge, as the tape would blow off fairly regularly courtesy of a breeze that blew in from the hallway every time someone opened the door. I quickly learned to keep my ear attuned to the telltale sound of flapping paper, and I always seemed to know where my roll of masking tape was so that I could quickly retape the offending corner and once again cover up the glass. As the week of shiva wore on and we spent day after day having countless friends and family coming through the house, I became ever more comfortable walking away from conversations to take care of it.

I'll share more about the whole walking away from folks thing in another blog entry. But for now, I simply wanted to share another slice of this surreal journey. Because as trivial as covering up errantly exposed mirrors may seem, in retrospect I realize how important it was to hold onto rituals as a means of making sense of something that'll never make any sense at all.

Admin note: Thematic returns tonight

Hi gang. Wanted to let you know that Thematic will be back, a bit late, tonight (Tuesday) at 7:00 p.m. Eastern.

Thank you for your patience these past few weeks while we put this regular feature on hold. It's been a tough grind, and I'm guessing you're never really "done" mourning, but it's nice to know we're surrounded by so many good souls. Which is my way of saying that now seems like the right time to reach for the camera once again and start seeing the world through its lens.

I hope you'll all reach for your cameras, too, and share your own visions of the world, as that's kinda what life is all about. And it's one of the ways we get more out of the days we've been given.

Happy shooting, and thank you again.

On laughing in the face of the cold

"Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face."
Victor Hugo

Strangely appropriate tonight given the last blast of Old Man Winter rolling across the province tonight. Wherever you are and wherever you're going, be safe. And feel free to do so with laughter in your soul.

Thematic Photographic returns tomorrow (Tuesday) at 7 p.m. Eastern. Thank you all for your email messages asking about it. I'm touched.

Please don't shake

I grew up in a place where so-called "pop" beverages weren't called that at all. In Quebec, they're boissons gazeuses. Or, simply, Coke.

Not that I'd notice, since carbonated anything has never really been my thing. It just doesn't go down well with me, and I fail to see how a fizzing concoction with more dissolved sugar than anything else can be remotely refreshing. I'll take water or juice, please and thank you.

Still, the aesthetic of pop, or carbonated drinks, or whatever you call them where you live (discussion for another day, perhaps) is strangely appealing to me. Those little cans, built just so to hold in the pressure, are like low-cost consumer sculpture. The rows and rows of these things, backlit in vending machines that hum forlornly at the backs of convenience stores everywhere, are almost iconic, perfect storytellers for our early-millenium consumption-based culture.

Either that or they're just cans. I've got to stop overthinking this stuff.

Your turn: Thirsty? What do you reach for first? Why?

Still waters run deep

Feeling reflective
Thamesford, ON
October 2012

The world can be an ugly place sometimes, with ugly people doing ugly things for reasons that don't follow any of the rules we learned as kids.

As easy as it might be to let the ugliness win, I'm mindful of the fact that we're all a blink removed from moments like this, where the ugliness fades into a distant, irrelevant place. Where an ever changing kind of perfection awaits anyone with a few minutes to spare and just enough of a wanderlust to get off the road for a couple minutes of reflection.

On this day, I'm glad I did. Because I smiled the rest of the way home. I figured the ugliness could stay in the shadows for a little while longer.

Your turn: Do you stop and smell the roses? Or, in this case, stare at the water? When you do, what do you see?

On being kind. Just because.

"Ask yourself: Have you been kind today? Make kindness your modus operandi and change your world."
Annie Lennox