Kingston Birth Photography | When the photographer weeps, and a bit about the value of birth photography

Kingston Birth Photography | When the photographer weeps, and a bit about the value of birth photography

The transfigurative moment that flits in with just the smallest change in circumstances - a baby descends a few inches through the birth canal into the open world - is a wondrous thing. One moment, there is no one there and the next - there is a being that demands all your attention. Of course that being was there all along, but it was encased, enveloped in warmth, and quite undemanding of his parents' time and efforts.

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The Foundry Tattoo: a small town shop with big city heart

The Foundry Tattoo: a small town shop with big city heart

Behind the jokes and shooting the shit, Andrew seems to have a very solid vision for his shop. I get the sense he's naturally got all the components of successful entrepreneurship in a relatively small city: He's friendly and light-hearted with clients and friends, humble and supportive within the community, and steadfast in his approach to artistry and business-ownership.

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Why The Elm Cafe will win your heart <3

Why The Elm Cafe will win your heart &lt;3

The Elm Café is more than the sum of its (perfectly awesome) parts: it is a tiny hub of activity and community on the otherwise nondescript corner of Montreal and Charles St. If I'm having a dramatic day, I might liken it to the floodplains of the Nile amidst Egyptian desert. If humanity is what you seek, you can always find it at the Elm, lodged deep in a diverse community of hard-working people trying to pursue dreams or make ends meet, or both, in the Inner Harbour, who don’t often have the time to wish for things like this, but who very much yearn for them anyway.


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The Thing About the City: On Inspiration Found in Concrete Scapes

The Thing About the City: On Inspiration Found in Concrete Scapes

As a young teen in the UK, I found a photo in a magazine. I cut it out and stuck it to the wall of my tiny bedroom and gazed at it every day. It was of the Twin Towers in Manhattan. I drew an arrow toward the very top of one of the towers. It was meant to depict where I’d stand one day, overlooking the entire world, arms out, free as a bird. That was 1993.

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Between beauty and dream: On memories and the case for emotion over story.

Between beauty and dream: On memories and the case for emotion over story.

The images and stories and songs I yearn for are somewhere between beauty and dream. They don’t need to be coherent, in the same way dreams don’t need to be. Ever try to tell someone your dream? Yawn. Even if you’re a damned good storyteller, you’ll induce some snoozes. The thing that compels you to tell someone your dreams is the feelingyou’re left with when you open your eyes. It’s the emotion that grips you, but that's attached to an ineffective or half-baked story. That emotion is hard to put into words. But could it be done through music, sound, or pictures?

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I'm not a quitter, but I quit.

I'm not a quitter, but I quit.

Two years ago, I walked away from academia. After pursuing it relentlessly and devotedly for some seventeen years (if you count my undergraduate degree), I walked away.

It wasn’t a dramatic, flailing arms and hair-pulling act...

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