Web, photos and assorted geekery
Last week I did something I hadn’t done in a while: bring my camera to work and take pictures from the SeaBus. Now that the days are getting shorter I can get some fine sunset pics—when the weather’s cooperating, as it was that day.
Last week I did something I hadn’t done in a while: bring my camera to work and take pictures from the SeaBus. Now that the days are getting shorter I can get some fine sunset pics—when the weather’s cooperating, as it was that day.
On Thanksgiving Sunday I went to see a play at the Jericho Arts Centre—lovely little place between Jericho and Locarno Beaches—and then a few of us went for dinner at a veggie restaurant in Kits, where I took one last shot of the sun going down on 4th Ave.
It’s the little things, y’know?
On the way to work this morning I saw a snail crossing the sidewalk. It had a very pretty shell, pale yellow with a sharp black stripe. Right in the middle of the sidewalk it was, halfway between the bushes by the McD parking lot and the cool shady bushes by the side of the road.
It’s the little things, y’know?
On the way to work this morning I saw a snail crossing the sidewalk. It had a very pretty shell, pale yellow with a sharp black stripe. Right in the middle of the sidewalk it was, halfway between the bushes by the McD parking lot and the cool shady bushes by the side of the road.
Well, this was new and interesting, so I stayed and snapped a few pictures. And then I stayed some more, because I was afraid this little guy* would get squished by some oblivious lumbering biped. It was taking its sweet time, as snails do; after a couple minutes I tried to gently pick it up, but it retreated inside its shell and just hung on to the sidewalk. So I left it alone.
It took the snail about 10 minutes to complete its journey. I stayed with it all that time, not minding how I looked to passersby, not minding that I’d be a little late for work. The snail was teaching me patience, teaching me one needs to slow down every once in a while.
(* I know snails are hermaphrodites)
How and why is Davie Village a gay neighbourhood? How did gays shape it? And where is it going in the 21st century? All these questions and more were answered last night in a guided history walk hosted by Gordon Price, city councillor from 1986–2002, writer and consultant, who came to Vancouver in 1978 as a fresh-faced gay man.
How and why is Davie Village a gay neighbourhood? How did gays shape it? And where is it going in the 21st century? All these questions and more were answered last night in a guided history walk hosted by Gordon Price, city councillor from 1986–2002, writer and consultant, who came to Vancouver in 1978 as a fresh-faced gay man.
We started out by English Bay Beach, which was a gay cruising ground back in 1978, known apparently as “the pansy patch.” It wasn’t the only one, though, and gay territories would shift over the years. Cruising spots like parks, beaches and bars were the first gay-identified spaces; it was in these places that gay men explored and celebrated their sexuality, and connected with each other.
(Incidentally: nowadays you could fairly say that everywhere in Davie Village is gay territory.)
Our first stop was corner of Pendrell & Nicola, near Lord Roberts Elementary, where we addressed the question, why here? What made this neighbourhood one that gay men would choose? Well, there were a few factors: lots of rental space (mostly 1-bedroom apartments), plenty of bars and entertainment nearby, and good transit—perfect for a mobile, unattached population with disposable income looking to hook up. You’ll find similar conditions pretty much all gay ghettoes around the world.
We segued into a discussion of the physical history of the Village’s houses and buildings. That street corner was an excellent vantage point to see all the layers, all the decades side by side: a circa-1890 2 ½ storey house just up the street, a lovely 1920’s apartment building on the corner (the Princess Charlotte), plainer highrises built in the 60’s and 70’s… It’s all there.
The Village saw massive construction in the 50’s, 60’s and early 70’s: many of these old homes were razed to make way for modern apartments, communities were displaced, and it was a very traumatic time. But let’s not romanticise the past: these new apartments had running water, electricity, privacy, and at least a kitchenette. Compared to the overcrowded old heritage houses, pretty and historic though they were, this must have been heaven.
Besides, it’s what made it possible for gays to settle here. Can’t argue with results like that.
Next stop: St Paul’s Church, where we discussed the rise of street prostitution in the West End in the 70’s and early 80’s. Long story short, prostitutes (all genders) and their johns were creating a massive nuisance for residents, many of whom by now had a stake in their community, and perceived a very real risk of the Village turning into a red light district. They formed a group, Concerned Residents Of the West End, which succeeded in driving street prostitution out of the West End through some interesting legal tricks. Here again, it was the gays that took charge and reinvented their neighbourhood.
One last short walk, ending up at Bute and Davie. In the shadow of J Lounge and Hamburger Mary’s—checking out the fierce drag queens and pretty muscle boys—we recapped all we’d seen, and asked ourselves where it was all going. Would Davie Village still stay gay? Will young gay men have as easy a time finding a place here as they did 30 years ago?
Bottom line: it’s impossible to tell. The West End has continually reinvented itself, and will continue to do so as long as it exists. New people, new communities, new ideas will pour in; the neighbourhood will absorb them and weave something from the old and the new.
This morning I took the long route to my bus stop, walking up Nicola to Georgia. It was a beautiful stretch, mostly heritage homes and low-rises, until I hit Robson, and then BAM! Back in the big city. The West End is truly a special place, and I feel more connected to it than ever. I am very, very lucky to live where I live, to be part of something like this.
Not a bad way to kick off Pride Week!
Last week I attended Northern Voice 2011. Much fun was had by all.
Last week I attended Northern Voice 2011. Much fun was had by all.
Also last week, I attended Slutwalk Vancouver.
And in the last week, I’ve been able to organise my morning routine so that I can walk to/from the North Van bus, instead of connecting twice. I tell you, there’s nothing like a morning walk in the West End, in the warm sunlight, surrounded by joggers and the smell of fresh cut grass. Likewise, walking from the Skytrain along the Seawall.
Found this right in front of my building this morning. There were also a few Earth Day-themed chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and others pointing us to the nearest polling station (they all want us to vote Green). I love the West End!
Found this right in front of my building this morning. There were also a few Earth Day-themed chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and others pointing us to the nearest polling station (they all want us to vote Green). I love the West End!
It’s been a cold and rainy spring for the most part, putting a serious damper on Vancouver’s Cherry Blossom festival. Still, there were a few sunny breaks here and there, and I managed to take a few shots of spring flowers.
It’s been a cold and rainy spring for the most part, putting a serious damper on Vancouver’s Cherry Blossom festival. Still, there were a few sunny breaks here and there, and I managed to take a few shots of spring flowers.
You know what’s really interesting? The blossoms in the above photos (taken on April 2nd) are noticeably pinker than the later ones (taken on April 11th)
It’s been an interesting year, that’s for sure. A year of transitions and new beginnings. After being laid off in late 2009, I spent the first few months of 2010 trying to look for work, and not having much success. After a while I began to wonder if maybe there wasn’t another way to go about things. Tentatively I reached out to other freelance web designers, getting a feel for the industry, still unsure of what I really wanted to do, and what I was ready for.
It’s been an interesting year, that’s for sure. A year of transitions and new beginnings. After being laid off in late 2009, I spent the first few months of 2010 trying to look for work, and not having much success. After a while I began to wonder if maybe there wasn’t another way to go about things. Tentatively I reached out to other freelance web designers, getting a feel for the industry, still unsure of what I really wanted to do, and what I was ready for.
Eventually, I landed a couple of small contracts, just enough to give me the confidence to continue. And I started a long-term contract at a small web development shop, doing interesting things with Magento and Drupal, and possibly other CMS’s down the line, exactly the kind of skills I want to develop. Plus, it’s a steady paycheck, which is nothing to sneeze at. But the difference with all the other steady paychecks I had in my career, is that this is something I really enjoy doing, and that I can see myself doing in the long-term. I’ve still got a lot to learn, both in technical skills and the freelancing life in general, I believe I’ve finally found my path.
Some other important firsts:
And they won’t be the last, that’s for sure.
What else? Well, there’s going in drag for the first (and probably last) time.
And here’s to 2011! Time to build on everything I’ve accomplished last year.
I went back to Ottawa to visit my family for the holidays and it struck me—not for the first time—that I was a tourist in my home town. Gone for almost 15 years, coming back once a year on average, gradually lost touch with most of my friends there—but this time, I decided to roll with it, and actually do the touristy thing. Well, it was either that or stay indoors and cower from the winter cold.
I went back to Ottawa to visit my family for the holidays and it struck me—not for the first time—that I was a tourist in my home town. Gone for almost 15 years, coming back once a year on average, gradually lost touch with most of my friends there—but this time, I decided to roll with it, and actually do the touristy thing. Well, it was either that or stay indoors and cower from the winter cold.
First stop, Parliament Hill. I’ve only gone a couple of times, including one school trip, and at least one student protest. Was kind of hoping I could get in, but no, only staff or tour groups were allowed inside. Oh well, I still snapped some photos, then wandered around the Byward Market, the Art Gallery, and Notre Dame Cathedral.
Next day, I hit the Experimental Farm. The weather was fine and clear, though still bloody cold.
And on the flight back, I managed to get some more pictures from the plane. Picking a window seat on the starboard side was a long shot because I didn’t know how good the weather would be, but it paid off. Skies were clear for big chunks of northern Ontario, and bits of Manitoba and Alberta, as well as the Lower Mainland. Score! And once back, I got some experience fiddling with colour levels to remove the atmospheric haze. On the whole, I’m pretty happy with the results.
Yes, it’s that time of year again. On Saturday I went a-crawling, deciding to roam around Strathcona again. There are still many studios I haven’t seen yet, way out past Clark and near the Waterfront, but I enjoyed Strathcona so much! the pretty heritage houses, the rich history, the feel of community similar to what I feel in the queer West End, though with a different flavour, of course.
Yes, it’s that time of year again. Last weekend I went a-crawling, deciding to roam around Strathcona again. There are still many studios I haven’t seen yet, way out past Clark and near the Waterfront, but I enjoyed Strathcona so much! the pretty heritage houses, the rich history, the feel of community similar to what I feel in the queer West End, though with a different flavour, of course.
I’d like to think this poster was an omen, when I saw on the way to my first studio:
Okay, as far as omens go, it doesn’t say much about the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, because the people organising this Free Art event probably timed it to go along with the Crawl. And though I don’t agree with everything this poster has to say (especially in the fine print), it got me thinking. Hence this stream-of-consciousness blog post.
Why free art?
Or, Why art?
Or, What is it that I’m getting out of the Crawl?
Good questions. It’s true that “Art is food” and “Art soothes pain,” as the poster says, but the Crawl is about a lot more than that. It lets us see not just finished art pieces, we get a peek at the creative process. A lot of the studios had tools, paintbrushes, or what have you, out in the open and obviously well used. Artists are not magicians, they are not some refined elite conjuring beautiful things out of nowhere. Art takes talent, yes—and some say that’s overrated—but also work and dedication and passion.
And art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Around every artist is a whole community to inspire or be inspired by their work. Art and culture don’t (necessarily) belong in galleries, and they’re not disconnected from everyday life. You can find art in paintings and sculptures, but also furniture, clothing, even custom-made panties. No fooling, one of the studios was selling them, but I forgot to get her card. And hey, even painting can brighten up whole communities: about a dozen large public murals were on display in the Downtown Eastside. I only photographed one, the closest to Strathcona, the others being too far out of my way.
I don’t agree with the Free Art people: art, for better or for worse, is not disconnected from money. It’s a business, and one that I’m a little more sensitive to, having taken the plunge into the freelance world. I hope my work will be as rewarding as these artists’.
I’ve got to admit, my attendance at the Parade of Lost Souls has been pretty spotty. I’ve only gone a handful of times since I moved to Vancouver, and I didn’t even know it had been canceled last year. I went this year, though. Because it’s a wonderful tradition that’s worth following, and because Public Dreams needs the support.
I’ve got to admit, my attendance at the Parade of Lost Souls has been pretty spotty. I’ve only gone a handful of times since I moved to Vancouver, and I didn’t even know it had been canceled last year. I went this year, though. Because it’s a wonderful tradition that’s worth following, and because Public Dreams needs the support.
How much support, I didn’t even realise until I read this West Ender article on how provincial cuts are hurting the arts and communities. Yet even scaled down the Parade (or I should say, the Ghost Walk), is keeping the magic alive. From the crazy costumes to keep us in the mood, to neighbourhood musicians keeping us entertained… to the (dare I use the word) more spiritual offerings, like Queen Victoria’s booth, where Walk participants can give away their fears in exchange for a feather. I remember that one from years past; wait, maybe for that one we wrote down wishes, not fears. Or maybe there were two booths, I forget.
And I lost the feather the next day. Oh well, it did its job.
I love the Parade of Lost Souls, for the way it brings together a whole community, and for the way it lets me suspend my skepticism for just one night. I hope it gets back on its feet, more people need to experience it.
So here they are, a month late, some photos of the Ghost Walk. And tomorrow’s the Culture Crawl!
