Diffusion and Refraction

November 30, 2011

Click to enlarge.

My father, myself, and my brother (Stephen). South Cross Lake, Whiteshell Provincial Park, Manitoba. 1987.

We would go on a several-weeks long canoeing / camping trip up into the wilderness every summer. It was a very typically Canadian thing to do.

When canoeing, the person in the rear of the canoe guides the boat. They must navigate and steer. There is something immensely satisfying about stroking your oar through calm waters and watching the twin whorls of water dance off of your paddle as you slip it out of the wet.

We had a little island we would set up camp at. I would fish but didn’t actually want to catch anything. I just liked the act of fishing. I would built my little twig and stone forts and play out the lives of their inhabitants in my imagination. I was fascinated by tiny, mysterious worlds that could be hidden in a crack of a rock, or just below the surface of the water behind a log.

My father always looks unhappy or strained in photos. This is one of the few where he seems content. He had this photograph framed in his office for 25 years before he brought it home after retirement. It is now in his home office. That makes me smile.

I have an odd relationship with my father, and I don’t quite understand it. There is a strong, obsessive drive on the Chinese side of my heritage to respect your elders. I am combative with my father and I feel like I have to prove a point with him. I feel like his opinions are so extreme that I have to balance them out with equal and opposite viewpoints, even if I don’t even believe them. He is a man of very strict principles and stricter judgements. I believe he would do what is morally right before doing what he wants, or what his family wants. I don’t trust him because of this. I never have.

I love and respect and honour my father. I wish I could be more like him.

Used Surfaces

November 22, 2011

It wasn’t for nothing. My loft in the sun.

Click image to enlarge.

Wall Photography

May 25, 2011

A wall of flickering branches cast from day’s dying rays, like hidden visions shivering monochrome on medical screens.