the silent e

the winds

2010-09-23T16:44:00.006-06:00

Went backpacking in the Wind River Range this past weekend. With Liss and Olive and a couple of cameras. The more classic photos are up on the dibble photography blog, but I'm reserving the right to show nothing but trendy iPhone shots here. It's kind of hard to beat having a little tiny camera in your pocket as you walk. The big one was carefully packed for easy accessibility, but there's no changing the fact that I have to take my pack off to get to it. Which isn't so bad in and of itself. It's the putting the pack back on that isn't so desirable.

We had some things to do in town [Jackson] on Friday morning, so we didn't head south until about 2. Found our way on dirt roads through blazing sunshine to the Big Sandy Opening. Walked the 6 miles into Big Sandy Lake at a pretty good clip, racing the setting sun. Definitely not a time to pull out the big camera.

Ate chicken salad and spinach for dinner under the waxing moon. It was chilly, we didn't linger too long before squirming into sleeping bags. Olive was a tired dog, having chased squirrels the whole way in, despite carrying her own heavy pack. She curled up at our feet in the tent and passed out.

A lazy morning by the lake, and we were off to the other end. Dropped packs there and made a quick trip up to Jackass Pass overlooking the Cirque. Glorious. Reconnected with the packs and went in the opposite direction toward Deep Lake. Haystack Mountain loomed ahead, and a brief stop at Clear Lake made us all smile.

The wind was gusting on the wide open granite slab around Deep Lake when we arrived. Sun was setting, moon was rising. We bundled up, had a hot meal, drank wine [!] and tried to imagine what it might be like to climb the massive faces surrounding us. I didn't think once about emails I need to write or images I need to process on that second day. It was true escape, with one of my very favorite escape artists.

And then out. Woke up the next morning, already thinking about the to-do list. We took our time packing up and started walking back to the car. Stopped to soak our tired feet in the creek just a bit before the parking lot. I think we were both trying to delay the inevitable, to extend our peaceful moments in the woods if only by a bit. Remembering a time when this was our daily routine, when walking and cooking food and finding a good spot to sleep was all we had to worry about.

Those were the days. And in their own way, so are these.

Believe it or not, this is the face of a happy dog. Part smile, part snarl, all good.

far far away

2010-09-22T21:11:00.005-06:00

Jackson Wyoming is just on the brink of too far from Golden BC to drive. Alone. In one day. It looks like just a hop and a skip on this map. Don't be deceived. I drove it yesterday, and I can verify that it's far far away. Which is tough, because that's where part of my heart lives.

chopped

2010-09-17T13:29:00.003-06:00

I've been told all my life that I have beautiful hair. I grew attached to the compliments, attached the security of knowing that something about me was unanimously likable, attached to as much of this proclaimed beauty as possible. I've always had long hair. Lots of long hair.

Until today.

I've been tossing around the idea of cutting my hair for, mmm, maybe 20 years. I've talked myself out of it for various reasons more times than I can count. But today the pros outweighed the cons. I'll break it down to these three:

1. An exercise in letting go, in non-attachment, in embracing change.
2. A gamble on helping relieve persistent tension headaches.
3. An opportunity to give. To give someone else my confidence.

Renae Murray at The Hair Place in Jackson Wyoming took the helm on this one. I brought her photos of cuts I liked and didn't like, told her I didn't have a clue what my hair might do when short, and trusted.

I sent the donation to Beautiful Lengths, an organization started by Pantene. A bit of snooping around on the internet revealed that this program has created more wigs in just a few years than Locks of Love has created in over a decade.

little joys

2010-05-02T18:34:00.001-06:00

Things are not going as smoothly as hoped right now. The effects are pervasive, daunting, even frightening. But I'm finding peace in the littlest joys. They are worth noting. They are what keeps me going.

• More moments of daylight with each sunset.
• A truckload of rich soil delivered to our garden. Like black velvet. The most excited I've been in weeks.
• Riding my townie bicycle on dry roads past blossoming fruit trees. Not getting in the car for a week at a time.
• Fresh cut flowers on our table.
• A steaming cup of coffee. Delivered.
• Purging, getting rid of stuff, cleaning out the old, making space for new things, new ideas, new attitudes.
• Spending $2.25 at the thrift store. Bright earrings, a retro belt, a very soft shirt.
• Homemade salad dressing. So good I want to eat salad for breakfast, lunch, dinner.
• The smell of laundry dried on the line, crisped by fresh air and sunshine.
• A perfectly cooked egg. Somewhere between soft boiled and hard boiled.
• The first spring day when we open every window in the house and let the breeze blow through.
• Being introduced to new music. Like the song This Too Shall Pass [aptly named] by OK Go. Or a current favorite, The High Road by Broken Bells. Thanks Jian Ghomeshi.
• Cooking on a gas stove. Distant memories of the old electric one.
• Crossing things off the list. Completed projects. Even little ones.
• A hot bath with a glass of red. Decadence.
• A good sneeze.

on a saturday

2010-02-27T20:36:00.004-07:00

Some of the things I'm loving on this last Saturday in February:

1. Clean, cold water in a huge mason jar. And all the privilege that such a thing implies.
2. Radio 2 in the morning. Radio 2 in the evening.
3. Hot coals in the wood stove from the night before.
4. Being in the alpine surrounded by white.
5. Laughing with my man.
6. Hot hot hot showers.
7. Soul. And people who can leave it all on stage. Like Matt Anderson singing I'm On Fire.
8. Making sourdough pizza with cilantro pesto.
9. Eating sourdough pizza.
10. Tired muscles and a calm mind.

built for two

2010-02-26T19:03:00.001-07:00

I love sifting through the old stuff and finding images I'd passed by the first time around. Such was the case with this one. From a narrow little alley in Lijiang, China.

somewhere warm

2010-02-24T18:47:00.001-07:00

It hasn't been snowing here. Which makes being here a little less exciting. Which makes me think about where we would go if we went on a winter holiday to some warm place. This shot I took on the way back from Nica last May makes me think Cuba would be a good answer to the hypothetical question. Yes. To Cuba. That's where we would go.

cold nose

2010-02-11T18:59:00.000-07:00

leila texts

2010-02-02T14:01:00.002-07:00

I sat down to do some blogging today and randomly decided to hit the 'next blog' button in the top navigation bar. You know, because I'm having a very focused day.

I found Leila. And a bunch of funny and bizarre text messages that Leila gets through a fluke in the Verizon text messaging system.

You really must check out the next blog: The Leila Texts.

alberta

2010-01-30T21:37:00.000-07:00

Had to make a quick trip to Calgary this morning. This is what Alberta is looking like at the moment.

around the corner

2010-01-28T21:42:00.000-07:00

I love that the posse moved no farther than one half block away. Just around the corner. Very easy access indeed. Close enough that you could run home naked from the hot tub, if you absolutely had to.

asulkan

2010-01-27T19:54:00.001-07:00

A night at the Asulkan with Mike, Norm, Annie. Sparkling clear night. Pink sunrise. Up to Young's Peak in the morning, via one hell of a boot pack up the headwall. Then skied the Seven Steps of Paradise and boogied on out of there in time for a 4pm meeting.

the torch

2010-01-21T21:44:00.002-07:00

The Olympic torch came through town tonight. It was a spectacle worth checking out. I, along with many others in this province, have mixed feelings about the Olympics. I love the athleticism, the sportsmanship, the internationality of it all. But I'm not so big on the unchecked spending of public funds, the displacement of people that don't fit with the 'look' of Vancouver, and the excessive commercialization of the whole scene.

The torch tonight was lead by an offensively loud Coca-Cola truck, with people shouting into microphones and tossing Coke trinkets into the crowd. It was kind of gross.

But at the core of the event were some torch-bearers that were beyond enthusiastic, a community of supporters that was easily charged up, and a local history of international athleticism that continues to inspire. Sid Feuz, one of the original Swiss guides to settle in this area, was the man of the hour. He is my new favorite Goldenite.

best in town

2010-01-19T23:32:00.001-07:00

Remember this little blog post about burger joints and the importance of knowing them well? It was almost exactly two years ago that I started the search for the best burger in this town. As it turns out, that burger happens to be in my house.

The man knows how to make a damn fine burger. I'd eat them every night if that idea didn't make me ill on principle. Sometimes he puts curry in the patties. Sometimes he puts bacon and cheddar and mushrooms on top. Sometimes he serves kale on the side. No other burger joint in town can compete.

back alley

2010-01-18T22:00:00.001-07:00

masquerade

2010-01-02T21:17:00.000-07:00

We brought in the new year with masked dancing the other night. I had found a beautiful feather mask at a rummage sale last spring, and therefore escaped the pressures of creating a mask masterpiece for the evening. I knew I would need it eventually. Others pulled out all the stops, and the artwork on faces was inspiring. Any party that warrants a craft night in preparation is okay in my book.

starlings

2010-01-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

I woke up a bit bleary eyed this morning. I threw the curtains open to let in the light of a new year, and there outside my window was an immense flock of starlings. It felt like a very powerful moment, one that I didn't know quite what to do with. So I tried to take a picture. But by then they were mostly gone. One flew away and then a hundred flew away, and I watched them swoop and shift and dance in the sky across the street.

I got online to see what kind of message I should take from these starlings that I've seen around our neighborhood before. I've always enjoyed watching the way the group moves, so it was kind of an honor to see them so close, as if they had chosen me as their audience.

As you might guess, there are any number of symbolic interpretations of starlings. First I checked Wikipedia for some background on the birds, and I liked these bits:

Starlings have strong feet, their flight is strong and direct, and they are very gregarious.

Starlings have diverse and complex vocalizations, and have been known to embed sounds from their surroundings into their own calls, including car alarms, and human speech patterns. The birds can recognize particular individuals by their calls, and are currently the subject of research into the evolution of human language.

Then I found myself on some kind of Wiccan site where I saw this. I decided to try another search phrase after reading it.

Starlings are considered murderous, and are an ill omen in flocks.

The next site I found had this to say, which I liked. It rang true enough, since I had woken up on the first morning of a new year to the birds.

Starlings are messengers from the spirit realms. They actually are a wake-up call and reminder that changes in situations are coming. Usually for the better. They signal the end of one cycle and the beginning of a new one.

And lastly, I came across this book, Animal-Speak: The Spiritual & Magical Powers of Creatures Great & Small by Ted Andrews. He talks about the lessons in group behavior that starlings can reveal. They show us both the good and the evil of group behavior. The good includes solidarity, communication, and strength. The evil is evidenced in the starlings' occasional mobbing of other birds.

Andrews suggests that if starlings have shown up in your life, you should reflect on your approach to group situations, to community, to communication and sensitivity to the words of others. I will be doing just that.

screaming barfies

2009-12-31T21:08:00.000-07:00

An unusual term. I think ice climbers get the credit for coining it. Meant to describe the excruciating pain of regaining feeling in your recently frozen fingers. When it hurts enough that you want to scream and barf at the same time. Nice, huh?

That's what's going on here, as he tries to bring some circulation back into the digits. He didn't barf.

clamshell

2009-12-30T23:05:00.000-07:00

Mike and I took the sled out to the base of the Clamshell today. We started walking from there, up and up until we hit the ridge, and then up some more. We found some good snow and some cold fingers, and a few very interesting looking lines off the north side of the ridge. We skied the south side back down to the sled and cruised back out to the truck just before dark.

I took a few shots along the way, although not a single one of the dramatic feature itself. Maybe I'll update this post with a shot of the 'shell from town, where it looks imposing and ominous and far more challenging to ski than it actually was. Which makes it sound like I skied the thing like a pro. Which would be a complete lie. I stumbled right over a little rock part way down the steepest section and stuck my head pretty far into the snow. Just keeping it real.

extended gifting

2009-12-29T20:39:00.002-07:00

If I had my way, never would all of my Christmas presents arrive in the mail on time. Rather than open every last little thing on the same one day of the year, I'd like to open a gift every few days for a couple weeks after the hype. Lucky for me, gifts do have a tendency to trickle in. I'm not sure if I have the Canadian border to thank for that, or the tardiness of my loved ones, but either way it makes me happy.

The present from my aunt Annie made me happy too. When it arrived today. Annie is an artist that understands color, and the importance of visual appeal in a wrapped gift. It seems to be a dying art, gift wrapping. Or maybe I just happen to exchange gifts with people that don't care as much as Annie and I do.

Thanks for caring Annie. And for the gifts.

drink delivery

2009-12-26T19:46:00.001-07:00

I was working at the shop today. Not having such an exciting day. Until this was delivered. Merry Christmas indeed.

house parties

2009-12-22T21:04:00.000-07:00

They're the best part of the night life in this town. And the entryway of whichever house we're partying at usually looks like this. Down coats and wet boots. I'm not even going to pretend that we live in some kind of chic, fashion-forward community.

decorations

2009-12-20T10:29:00.001-07:00

We have a Christmas tree. I can't tell you how happy this makes me. I was downright giddy when we drove down an old logging road, hacked down a very shapely tree, and threw it in the back of the truck. I found a tree stand and lights (half of which worked) at the thrift store, and we were on our way.

I can't really sort out what it is about having a tree in the house that makes me feel so good. But it does. I'm not an especially big believer in having lots of ornaments stored away to be used for a couple weeks of the year, so the little tree was looking quite sparse for a while. Until Jocelyn hosted a cookie party, complete with sugar cookies in all shapes and forms, colorful icings, and paintbrushes: a brilliant idea that was completely new to me.

I painted up a few cookies, came home and hung them on the tree. I love that we have home made ornaments that don't need to put in a box sometime in January. They won't likely survive into January anyway. They taste as good as they look.

I did find a couple ornaments at the thrift store that I deemed worthy of storage. This guy in particular.

bye wyoming

2009-12-19T21:48:00.001-07:00

I had a bit of a reality check today. I finally went in to get my BC driver's license. I'd been dragging my feet, not wanting to give up the Wyoming plates, maybe not wanting to admit the permanence of my permanent residency.

When I handed the woman at the counter my Wyoming driver's license, I expected her to cut a corner off it, or punch a hole in it, or deface it in some way, and then give it back. No such luck. She destroyed it and happily reminded me I wouldn't need it anymore, now that I'm a Canadian. Thus the reality check. I don't even have a copy of the old me, the Jackson version of me.

I came home and found this photo I'd taken on the day we did some flagpoling and I became a permanent resident. It says right on it, in plain view, WRONG WAY.

In fairness, I must admit that WY wasn't the end-all-be-all for me. There were reasons that I felt the need to move on. But that place also represents some exceedingly enjoyable years of my life. It's hard to say goodbye.

bitter melon

2009-12-06T22:08:00.001-07:00

I like Kiyoko's kitchen. It's very white, full of warm light, and it pretty much always smells good. As an added bonus, it's often the best place to find her.

One of the things I enjoy about spending time in her kitchen is the inevitable discovery. Exposure to new ingredients, tastes of unusual fermented things, new tools and techniques. I'm a bit of a taste adventurer, and Kiyoko's kitchen is full of adventure. More than the average Westerner might enjoy. I think that's why she lets me hang out in her way so much, because I'm one of the few that doesn't pass judgment on things like eating a whole fried fish for breakfast, head and all. She shares some of her food passions with me like dirty little secrets, because most people turn up their noses.

She was surprised that I didn't know about bitter melon. Had never seen it. Never heard of it. Definitely never tasted it. She showed me how to prepare it, warned me that it was extremely bitter, peaked my interest with nutritional facts. It was one of the adventures I won't seek out again soon. I'd rather photograph or paint or draw the bitter melon. It's a lot more bitter than melon.

hanalei bay

2009-12-05T22:36:00.003-07:00

green smoothie

2009-11-22T10:46:00.000-07:00

Andrea was the first one to tell me about them, around a campfire back in the spring. I was very interested. But I didn't do much about it. Then Nevada passed off the book a couple months ago and I tore through it in an afternoon. Now I'm kind of hooked.

The book (Green for Life by Victoria Boutenko) isn't something you'll see turning up in any technical journals. It's more or less theories backed by some loosely interpreted data. But somehow it came across as believable to me, maybe even common sense.

The idea is to cleanse your system on a regular basis, alkalize your body, produce more hydrochloric acid in the belly, and get a ton of nutrients with a pretty simple smoothie. The smoothie is based on the diet of chimps. Apparently chimpanzees have an extremely similar genetic make-up to you and me, but have a very low susceptibility to cancer and other illnesses that plaque our kind. So I'm chimping the chimp's diet: fruit and greens.

I've been throwing some fruit, water, and any raw leafy green veg I have around into the blender for 5 minutes and drinking the goodness down in the morning. It feels good. And tastes good. Most of the time. It's taken a few failures to find that kale is only good in moderation when raw, and that mustard greens are the enemy of green smoothies. Yikes.

If you want some ideas on good combinations and a rough recipe for a good starter smoothie, check out the peppered keyboard. This one had banana, papaya, lettuce, and a bunch of cilantro.

grammy

2009-11-20T09:35:00.001-07:00

Is she not just the cutest little grandmother you've ever seen? And I get to hang out with her all week. I'm taking notes of all the old stories she recalls so clearly. Her childhood, my mom's childhood, my childhood. Just don't ask her where we parked the car.

right here

2009-11-19T01:44:00.000-07:00

If you need me in the next few days, I'll be right here.

first snow

2009-10-08T18:40:00.001-06:00

It fell in big fat flakes in a short lived and very exciting fall storm. It's been doing the same in the mountains for a while now. It might just turn out to be a good one this year.

misty morning

2009-09-22T11:42:00.001-06:00

infrared

2009-09-12T09:42:00.000-06:00

I have never had an opportunity to shoot with infrared film. But I always liked the idea of a film able to see what we can't. And I like the look of infrared photos, the dark sky, the unusual colors, the surreal look. So I've taken to trying to recreate that look with the help of my friend, Photoshop. Here's the first attempt.

The name means below red, from the Latin word for below, infra. Red is the color of the longest wavelengths of visible light. Infrard light has a longer wavelength and a lower frequency than that of red light, hence below.

canal flats

2009-09-03T01:16:00.002-06:00

Somehow I'm still driving away from Golden every Monday morning before the crack of dawn. This month I'm heading south on my Monday morning drives, rather than East to Banff. It's been a welcome change of scenery, keeping the time on the road fresh.

One of the jewels of the drive is through Canal Flats, the headwaters of the mighty Columbia River. I like following the river all the way north and back home again on Thursday evenings like this one. I think about what it might be like to make the trip by canoe rather than car. I'll let you know when I find out.

the luck of the pot

2009-08-28T22:37:00.002-06:00

I've always liked potlucks. I like when people bring just enough of each item purely by chance, or the comedy of a dinner where everyone brings dessert. I like tasting the genius of friends who don't always share their culinary skills. I like them in the winter when everyone brings steamy dishes of cold weather favorites. I like them in the fall when so much of the food on the table is straight out of local gardens. I like them in the spring when you venture into the backyard for the first evenings outdoors in a long while. But I especially like them in the summer. Cool salads, and crisp cucumbers, bare feet and endless evening light, ice cubes and fresh mint, and of course, a sizzling grill.

Around here potlucks are the best restaurant in town.

For an easy polenta recipe that pleases a summer potluck crowd, check out my other blog, the peppered keyboard.

glacier crest

2009-08-25T20:42:00.001-06:00

gorman

2009-08-23T22:49:00.003-06:00

I'd spent the entire day inside, staring at a computer. It didn't seem like the right way to be spending one of the last few glorious days of August, so at the last possible moment I hopped in the car and drove to a trail head. Racing against the sunset, I sped along the trail to Gorman Lake. The air was fresh, the chance of encountering a bear present. I kept a quick pace, yelling greetings to bears that may not have been there. It was so much better than finishing the project at hand.

I'd spent the entire day inside, staring at a computer. It didn't seem like the right way to be spending one of the last few glorious days of August, so at the last possible moment I hopped in the car and drove to a trail head. Racing against the sunset, I sped along the trail to Gorman Lake. The air was fresh, the chance of encountering a bear present. I kept a quick pace, yelling greetings to bears that may not have been there. It was so much better than finishing the project at hand.

day trips

2009-08-22T20:41:00.000-06:00

I spent some time on the river with Darren Colton of Sunchasers Photography today. It brought me right back to my summers of photographing commercial raft trips in Maine and Colorado. Those summers are full of stories worthy of their own blog posts, which I'll maybe get around to one day.

This shot would never have made it to the sales table back when it was my job to create identical images, one after the other. But I was out there with different intentions today, so I can keep this one. And admit that it's my favorite. Despite the raft not being centered in the frame. Indeed, because the raft isn't centered in the frame.

up in the air

2009-08-13T20:36:00.001-06:00

off and away

2009-07-31T20:02:00.002-06:00

The backyard was a mess this evening, strewn with chainsaws, hard hats, saw pants, water bottles. Mike got the call tonight. Headed to the heat. He's off to work as a snag faller on the wild fires that are raging through BC right now. He's pumped. I'm, well, nervous.

headed home

2009-07-23T17:26:00.000-06:00

A wonderful summer road trip, coming to an end. First, an early morning stop at Tim Horton's to use a bathroom. We made our own coffee in the parking lot. And one last sleep in the tent, beside the Fraser, with tracks on both sides of the river and many a train through the night. It would have been an ideal camp spot otherwise. Warm winds whipping down the river, cool river to swim in, Ponderosa pines, and a landscape that reminded me of Colorado. I like BC.

sugar

2009-07-22T16:52:00.000-06:00

Thanks to the kindness of friends and strangers, I now have a new-to-me mountain bike. My first ever. It's called the Sugar, and I like sugar, so we should be good. It is the type of bike that makes me look more hard core than I am. I shall do my best to keep up with it.

this is summer

2009-07-21T22:48:00.000-06:00

Camping on an island. Swimming in the sea. Flip flops. Green grass. Reading under broken shadow. Dappled sunlight. Hammocks. Ice cream stands. Chocolate rhubarb ice cream. Heaven.

buck toothed

2009-07-20T20:45:00.000-06:00

In case there was ever any doubt about my silliness.

mail box

2009-07-20T20:43:00.002-06:00

I got some weird looks from passers by while taking this photo. It had to be done. This is what my mail box might look like if I lived on Hornby Island. When I live on Hornby Island?

hornby island

2009-07-19T14:17:00.000-06:00

This is the place when I will focus my daydreaming for the near future. I'll be picturing myself in a little cabin on the north side by night, biking by day.

port renfrew

2009-07-18T18:24:00.003-06:00

sombrio

2009-07-17T19:55:00.000-06:00

victoria

2009-07-15T22:09:00.001-06:00

Where the sunsets are lovely and the parks have live bands (!?).

to the coast

2009-07-13T12:05:00.002-06:00

Things aren't going quite as planned at the moment. It's been making me a bit sad. So we're running away. Just for a week, maybe two. Headed to the coast. Yeah, road trip.

We're going to take multiple ferries. Going to ride our bikes. Going to swim in salt water. And when we come back, maybe everything will be back on track . . .

hutch brown

2009-07-07T11:18:00.000-06:00

I've always been a fan. The most ridiculous laugh, and inquisitive mind, and infectious smile. He's one of the people I'd like to be sailing with right this minute. And one of the People I Don't See Nearly Enough of Anymore.

ray's museum

2009-07-06T23:50:00.003-06:00

In Nicholson, BC. An exploratory photo shoot inspired entirely by Laura Heffler. We weren't sure what to make of the 'museum' at first. Then Ray showed up and told us more stories than we bargained for. I was fascinated. The man has a story for every single thing in and around that place. That's a lot.

cabana

2009-07-05T22:03:00.003-06:00

I would safely say that I have considered myself a part of the general 'river community' for more than a decade. For several of those years, I took a bit of pride in knowing which rafts are best in which circumstances, which ones track well, which ones have too much rocker. I've had my share of kayaks, some outdated and some flashy new designs that made the old guys ask why. Never have I embarked on a river trip on something that could be mistaken for an oversized pool toy. Until today.

We floated the Columbia this afternoon. On this contraption that carries the nonsensical name of 'the cabana'. Swam in the icey cold water, drank beer from the floating cooler, surprised other more sophisticated river users with our bright turquoise beast. I lost some sunglasses in a bought of uncontrollable laughter. We all took a few photos with my little waterproof digi. It was good times.

It seems just about right that we had to wait for a train to pass before we could make it to the put-in. High class river running around here.

tea house

2009-07-03T11:20:00.002-06:00

It seems very civilized to me to arrive at an old stone tea house after several hours of hiking. To have a cup of tea and a cookie in the shade, and then continue walking.

The Plain of Six Glaciers Tea House sits just under 6 kilometers back from the parking lot at Lake Louise. The building was finished in 1927 and was designed to serve as a pit stop between the lake below and the massive hanging glaciers above. Joy Kimball bought the tea house from the Canadian Pacific Railway in 1959 and still spends part of her summer baking homemade chocolate cake, bread, and biscuits without the benefit of electricity.

With the help of a helicopter, around 20,000 pounds of tea house essentials are brought in each spring. After that, fresh supplies come care of pack horses, and fit employees who spend 5 days at a time out at the tea house. When the day hikers have left, those lucky few employees have an incredible valley and view all to themselves. And the marmots.

where i've been

2009-07-02T18:10:00.003-06:00

I've been away for a bit. Somehow days grew into weeks and the silent e was neglected. Neglected but not forgotten. I just got a little caught up in new things.

I like teaching myself new things. With lots of input from others. Some of which I discard immediately, some of which I cherish like precious little stones.

Web design is my research topic of choice at the moment. Seemed like a good idea to teach myself how to do it, to understand the inner workings of this world wide web thing. But as it turns out there is a whole lot to it. A whole lot.

Progress seems slow. And I'm not even writing code. True designers look at me and say 'oh yeah it will be easy with that system, a monkey could do it' and then I go back to the computer with banana in hand and try my best.

Still a work in progress (maybe always a work in progress), I think I'm ready to share the new site with you all. www.dibblephotography.com

six-zero

2009-07-01T20:29:00.001-06:00

I wish very much that I was celebrating with her today, rather than thousands of miles away. But it can't be done. So I post a photo from this very day one year ago, when we were able to celebrate together with a lazy canoe session off the Point. She told me then that there was no place she felt more at home, more content, more herself. I think she might have been saying it as I snapped this shot. I love to look at it for that reason alone. And to be part of the celebration from so far away.

devil's thumb

2009-06-27T22:39:00.003-06:00

I was so disgusted with the scene at the Lake Louise parking lot this morning, I thought I'd lost my desire to go for a hike at all. So.Many.People.So.Many.RVs.

But we started walking, and soon I had forgotten that there were people down there arguing about parking spaces and honking at each other and being generally miserable. We walked by emerald lakes, by fresh green Larch trees, by dramatic rock walls. We walked back towards the Plain of Six Glaciers, high above the valley. We scrambled up a steep scree field, and came out on the Devil's Thumb, so far above that we couldn't even see all drama in the parking lots.

the backyard

2009-06-14T23:10:00.003-06:00

The backyard has become my new favorite place to eat. With crisp cotton table cloths and fresh flowers stolen surreptitiously from the house next door (the old lady over there doesn't mind, really). What could be more summer. And all those terrible bugs everyone always complains about? They're still waking up. No sign yet.

For those with an appetite, this was a wicked BLT with some chipotle sweet potato salad on the side.

work

2009-06-11T12:59:00.000-06:00

rules

2009-06-10T01:09:00.000-06:00

Been working on a project that was more or less inspired by Richard Avedon's portrait series 'In The American West' from the early 80's. You should check out my inspiration for this shot (okay, I pretty much straight copied the idea . . . maybe that exceeds the definition of inspiration).

These were two of the more cooperative construction workers turned models that I worked with. And they happen to be brothers. Spencer and Tyler Rule. Avedon-worthy subjects, I think.

giddyup

2009-06-08T22:15:00.001-06:00

dandelion wine

2009-06-02T23:06:00.001-06:00

We have so many dandelions in our yard, I decided to do something about it. Kind of. I looked into how to make dandelion wine, realized that it would involve standing indoors over a hot stove instead of outdoors in the glorious early summer weather, and scrapped the idea. I decided to take pictures of them instead.

two jack

2009-05-31T09:35:00.001-06:00

Left work on Friday and went out to Two Jack Lake for a little decompression before driving home. The grass was green, the water frigid, the sky so blue. It was so very lovely. Three shots from the evening, all processed pretty differently.

looking north

2009-05-29T22:54:00.001-06:00

My fondness for Golden has been growing steadily over the last several months. I like driving into town on a Friday evening, leaving the gloss of Banff behind. I've come to appreciate how real this little town is, how gritty it can be, how genuine. Tonight as I drove in, the sun was behind the mountains, the tracks were full of train cars, the spring leaves on trees were vibrant and alive, and I too felt very alive. And at home.

cherry blossoms

2009-05-27T21:02:00.000-06:00

They smell oh so good.

dream journal

2009-05-26T00:14:00.000-06:00

I took a picture last night. All night. With a pinhole camera lent to me by Sarah Fuller. She's got this brilliant project going where she hands off the pinhole loaded with 4x5 film, and a smooth leather covered notebook to interested parties. I was an interested party.

The instructions were simple: Set the camera up facing your bed. Open the shutter. Go to sleep. Dream. Wake up and close the shutter on the camera. Write down your dreams in the provided journal.

I was intrigued by this idea of visually documenting a dream with a really really long exposure, and then documenting the same dream with a pen and paper. The journal itself felt a bit like an intimate look into the lives of strangers who shared one thing in common with me: Sarah Fuller as an acquaintance.

I knew that I wanted to partake in the project for weeks before I actually ended up with the camera and journal in my hands. I woke up every morning during those few weeks with a keen interest in what I might have dreamed. And for weeks, I couldn't recall a thing. It was as if I had stopped dreaming entirely. I was afraid the page in the journal next to my sleeping photo would be blank. But I did dream on the crucial night. In vivid color.

There were two dreams, the first was short and confused with only a few memorable factors: red and yellow tulips at a carnival.

In the second dream I was on a sailboat with friends in a brilliantly turquoise sea. We were diving off the boat and swimming in the intense blue. There was more to it, and unfortunately I didn't think to write down a copy of the dream for myself. It only exists in the journal in full detail.

jazz

2009-05-25T23:59:00.000-06:00

This past week has been my favorite part of the current job. Floating through rooms of extremely talented jazz musicians, some of the best. Like a fly on the wall, and trying not to snap loudly through those carefully placed silences. You know it's good when you stop taking photographs, close your eyes, and melt into the harmonies.

caesar

2009-05-24T22:30:00.000-06:00

I could think of no better way to celebrate becoming a permanent resident of Canada than drinking clamato juice and vodka. With a few other key ingredients thrown in as well. The Caesar. A beverage popular here and nowhere else. Why? Because clam infused tomato juice sounds revolting, and most cultures know better.

But I'm not going to lie. I love them. Much like a Bloody Mary, only better. With only the illusion of a clammy flavor. I've never actually noticed even a hint of seafood in my drink.

Here's how it goes. Lime the rim of the glass, then roll it through celery salt. Add ice, vodka, and clamato juice. A dash of Tabasco, drops of Worcestershire sauce, the tiniest hint of balsamic, and a small dollop of horseradish. Garnish with a celery stalk and a pickled asparagus. Kick back and drink like a Canadian.

flagpoling

2009-05-23T22:21:00.002-06:00

Headed for the border this weekend. When we got there we turned it right around. As requested. By Immigration Canada. We also purchased a big bottle of vodka, which was not specifically part of their request.

And after a bit of form filling and deep breathing, I became a landed immigrant. A permanent resident. That phrase, in and of itself, is exciting. It's been a long time since I resided even semi-permanently anywhere. I'm in the club. Wasn't even tested on my knowledge of hockey (thank goodness).

Oh, Cananda.

la boda

2009-05-22T20:02:00.000-06:00

It wasn't just any old trip to Nicaragua. It was a chance to see my good buddy Shib marry a fantastic woman. The woman, it would be safe to say. I've finally finished sifting through the photos from what was likely the best party San Juan's seen in years. Feel free to check some of them out here.

washed out

2009-05-20T21:19:00.000-06:00

I'm kind of liking this over-processed look. Like the heat of the mid-day sun washed everything but the essentials out. What do you think?

bird's eye

2009-05-19T21:10:00.000-06:00

Craig was kind enough to take me to his perch. High above the Centre. High above the valley. His kingdom. From a crane.

not summer

2009-05-19T21:08:00.000-06:00

It is so not summer in Banff.

little ben

2009-05-18T20:54:00.000-06:00

Ben Sutton has been on my list of People I Don't See Nearly Enough of Anymore for far too long, waiting in blog purgatory like so many others until I have a chance to get a photograph of them. I was lucky enough to have that chance a few weeks ago in Nicaragua. This is a guy who is beyond simple description, a humble genius in the eyes of those close to him, a old-timey guit-fiddle playing southern boy who's accent only sneaks out when he's had a couple shots of tequila. Or boxed wine. A veritable walking history book, with the subtle humor needed to get ideas across to the rest of us. He's all business (and all comedy at the same time). Even in the pool, his soapbox of choice on this particular evening. He is one of my favorites.

feline

2009-05-17T21:02:00.000-06:00

I had forgotten just how entertaining cats can be. Or maybe I'd never met one quite like Futa.

light late

2009-05-16T20:51:00.001-06:00

This is the best. Warm like summer. Still no bugs. Light so late that you forget to go inside and have dinner.

trees

2009-05-15T20:48:00.000-06:00

la cara

2009-05-14T10:06:00.000-06:00

granada

2009-05-13T17:08:00.000-06:00

recovery

2009-05-12T07:51:00.000-06:00

Something about warm water, hot afternoons, cold beer, hammocks. Does wonders for a knee recovering from recent surgery.

red rocket

2009-05-11T23:35:00.000-06:00

We wanted to go to the beach. In a rental car with low clearance. On a dirt road of dubious reputation. The day after a big rain storm. And so we went. The Red Rocket, as the rental car was dubbed, had only to maneuver its way through an exceptionally large and muddy (and eerily warm) puddle. This was an endeavor that I decided to document, perhaps to share with the nice people at Avis . . . won't they be pleased with the adventurous spirit of their little red Yaris?

The puddle was daunting but the Red Rocket powered through and we were off to the beach. The sand was hot, the waves tumbled us about playfully, the shade was non-existent, the sunblock flowed freely. Well after we had crossed through the puddle a second time on our way home, after the sand had been rinsed from our hair, we began to wonder if there had been a license plate on the front of the car. All the other cars in town seemed to have two, we noticed. It seemed likely that ours would too. After a quick photo review, it was clear. License plate at the beginning of the puddle, no plate at the end.

Motivation for slopping around in a thigh-deep hot mud puddle searching for a lost license plate was low. We joked about snorkels, seriously considered hiring local kids to man the search, debated the risk of driving without the plate on roads rampant with corrupt police looking for any excuse to twist dollars out of us. Days passed.

And then one morning we rallied the troops and headed for the puddle. Still a mile or two from the fated site, we were stopped by a couple of guys in a pick-up headed the other direction, towards town. One hopped out, ran around to the back of our car, quick to exclaim "oh yeah, it's yours". He had our plate. He had found it days before, happened upon it somehow on his way to the beach. We followed him to town, wondering how many hours we might have spent in the puddle looking for a license plate that was no longer there, if our paths had not crossed just then.

Franz was our hero. And drank a lot of beer for it.

diez

2009-05-10T20:01:00.000-06:00

Flying home it was a straight shot over Cuba.

nueve

2009-05-09T09:46:00.000-06:00

ocho

2009-05-08T09:56:00.001-06:00

Everything you need for a perfect Pacific coast meal. Avocado, lime, red snapper, and shrimp. Delicioso.

siete

2009-05-07T11:54:00.000-06:00

seis

2009-05-06T07:41:00.000-06:00

cinco

2009-05-05T23:10:00.000-06:00

cuatro

2009-05-04T22:59:00.003-06:00

San Juan del Sur.

tres

2009-05-03T20:50:00.000-06:00

dos

2009-05-02T18:39:00.001-06:00

The doors of Granada are famous for being colorful, ornate, and true to Spanish colonial roots. Like many travelers with camera in hand, I'm drawn to them, to their variety and vivid paint popping against the Central American sun. But it was not only the high class door that caught my eye. Some like these, with decay and fresh paint all in one door jam, were more appealing than anything on the polished streets.

uno

2009-05-01T22:29:00.002-06:00

It's May 1. Primero de Mayo. The first of a little series on Nicaragua. Drove through snow to the airport. Stepped off the plane into warm, humid air. The kind of air that bits of Swine Flu might linger in. So I'm told. We decided to arm our immune systems with ridiculous quantities of vitamin C and call it good. These guys were on a different health plan.

There have been no reported cases of Swine Flu in Nicaragua to date.

colors exhibit

2009-04-30T18:53:00.002-06:00

You may recall that last winter I did a little series here on this blog called COLORS. I just finished showing a body of work inspired entirely by that series. The show was at the Other Gallery at the Banff Centre, and it was a slightly frightening and entirely rewarding experience. In addition to showing 10 pieces (each consisting of 9 photos), I hung 90 2.5 inch photos on the wall for people to sift through and take the one they liked best. The idea was inspired by Lissa. She's super smart. That turned out to be my favorite part of the show, seeing what certain individuals wanted to go home with.

Here is what I had posted on the wall to explain all these random and colorful shots:

This little project started last winter, born out of a lack of motivation to pick up my camera. Spoiled by the excitement of travel and new places, I was uninspired to photograph the everyday. And so I gave myself an assignment. One color per day for 10 days. On the day devoted to yellow, I nearly drove off the road trying to shoot the school bus in front of me. I couldn't wait to shoot my favorite sneaks on the day for green. White was everywhere. Pink was harder to find.

This most recent working of the project includes photos from before and after that initial period of intensely colorful shooting. But each of these pieces has at least a few shots from the original self assignment. Some of the photos reflect everyday life, time spent close to home, and the things I see all the time. Some speak to a more adventurous traveling lifestyle, fleeting moments, unusual sights. Together they are a journal, my visual diary of last year.

relief leaf

2009-04-26T18:52:00.000-06:00

Like a relief map, but a leaf. Pretty cool, eh?

mountain culture

2009-04-25T18:50:00.000-06:00

A morning planning session at the Dave White Hut, BC. March 2008.

goode-pickens

2009-04-24T18:47:00.002-06:00

Can you even imagine a better hyphenated name? I know I can't.

Still going through old photos around here . . .

charts

2009-04-23T18:45:00.000-06:00

From last summer. Or was it two summers ago? Clearly I have been away from the sea for too long. And from these fine people, mysteries though they may be.

lighting amber

2009-04-22T18:40:00.000-06:00

This one was a special treat. My flatmate here in town. And an actress in need of headshots. Amber McGrath Huck left for the prairies shortly after this shoot. Thereby putting her on the list of People I Don't See Nearly Enough of Anymore.

with wings

2009-04-20T16:47:00.002-06:00

A painting at the Mu Mansion in Lijiang, China.

lighting jennifer

2009-04-17T18:39:00.000-06:00

shopper

2009-04-15T21:40:00.003-06:00

From the back streets of old Lijiang, just off the main tourist thoroughfares. Where the locals shop. November 2007.

lighting jesse

2009-04-14T22:46:00.002-06:00

Look for him. He's on his way up. Or you might see him hitching a ride to his next busking opportunity. Jesse Byers, and the boy's got soul.