We had planned this shoot carefully. Head out during a Stanley Cup playoff game. Game 7 between the Hurricanes and the Oilers — the roads would be basically empty. Being rural Alberta and all. We also strategically chose to shoot in the middle of a section of land where we could see people coming from a mile away in all directions — literally. So when we first heard, then saw, the mini-bike coming, we had time to react. We weren't concerned — they wouldn't bother turning up this road, there's nothing here. They turned up 'this' road and headed towards us. Tam didn't have time to put her clothes back on, so she crouched down in the ditch waiting for them to pass. They didn't. Instead, they stopped, pulled over, and took their helmet off. I think she must have been around 12 years old. Jess kept pretending to be shooting the sunset while Tam continued to crouch. The girl asked, "Whatcha guys doing?" I'm guessing she was more interested in us than hockey. I can't remember if Jess turned and acknowledged her existence or continued pretending to be obsessed with the sunset. See pic 4. The girl eventually left after a few awkward, silent moments and continued down the gravel road.

Lately I’ve been going through my back catalog of images, looking for specific ones that still resonate with me. I try not to be too judgey about what it is about the images as I’m doing it. Mostly looking for a gut feeling. Something in it that holds up, I either enjoyed creating or vibes as an aesthetic that I still get inspired by. This one was fun! It also vibes. Working with a team always brings something fresh into the mix.

Thanks to the Team. lillith and Janet (red siren)

The model for this session was Miss Contractor. She’s bloody amazing and I’m privileged to have worked with her. Follow her on Instagram
Thank you Lizzie for working on the lettering for me. Lizzie’s Instagram

Read more about Duane Michals
https://loeildelaphotographie.com/en/duane-michals-from-the-studio/

“I’ve always functioned on the principle of less purpose, more fun, and when times are stressful, it’s important to find and have fun. And I love it when something unexpected comes up. The best part is the discovery, and responding to and recognizing it. That’s what these films have been for me.”

NY Times - I think they could have done better job naming the html file.

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/06/10/arts/design/duane-michals-dead.html

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It's been a minute. I'm happy though; more or less a hermit. When I'm not working, I draw; when I'm not drawing, I write. Poorly for the most part so I won't be sharing most of it until it's a little less embarrassing.

I haven't been shooting and to be quite frank, I really don't want to. It's been 6 months. I think it would feel odd to even hold a camera up to my eye. Do people even do that anymore?

So here's a work in progress of a drawing I'm working on this weekend. As the work gets less embarrassing, I'll be sharing more of it. For the first time in my life I have ideas that require more than just a photograph and I've found myself lacking in the skills to make them manifest. So mostly hunkering down and learning, it's been a minute.

So years ago I had this theory, and I'm still debating how much of this is true. The theory was that much of what we love about analog photography has to do with optics and the fact that an image falls onto a substrate. Could be film or it could be paper, but that substrate plays a role in the way that image presents itself. I have no scientific thinking to back that up, and I'm sure there are other factors at play, like the way negative film handles highlights compared to digital, etc. Mostly for me it was the optics, and we're talking big old optics here, the kind that would have at least a 14" image circle. So with too many hours of research involved and too many hours building this camera obscura, I wanted to test it all.

These are the only remaining images of the 'camera' itself. I recycled it a few years after the shoot, not having anywhere to keep it. What's hard to see is that on the far side of the huge processing lens is a hole, and that hole is where I would mount my digital SLR. The camera obscura projected an image on the back surface and the digital camera recorded it. Looks fancy, eh? It was, however, a beast to use.

It was a fixed focal length and had a depth of field of fractions of inches. So I used the old school method of attaching a string to the front of the camera, and this is where the different participants would position themselves. On the back plate of the obscura I would draw scratches with charcoal pencils, ink marks, watercolor, etc. This was to give the images some texture, replicating that surface look you see on wet plates. I would print the images then add more scratches, etc., then scan again. Yeah, a very convoluted process. I love the results, not so much working with this camera.

It was very difficult and required a massive amount of light. I had to fire several strobes at close range to get a decent exposure, not wanting to introduce too much digital noise from the DSLR in the process. Overall I'm happy with the results from this experiment. My main takeaway was that I wished all those marks and scratches were 'real' in the sense that you could go up to the image and see them. The scratches on the original prints are there, but not the marks added on the substrate mounted on the back of the camera.

Looking back, this experiment taught me that the tangible, physical quality of analog photography, the thing I was chasing, can't be fully replicated through hybrid processes. There's something essential that gets lost in translation, no matter how elaborate the workaround. But sometimes the best way to understand what makes something special is to try to recreate using other means.

One last note: One thing I did learn from this experience is that equipment does play a role in how the work ends up looking. A massive camera that can't be moved with a focal length that can't be changed was a limitation that I had to work with. Those limitations force a person to be creative and come up with solutions to get the results they want.

A great example of this in action is the movie "The Holdovers." The use of tripods instead of steadycams, static shots, lens choices, color grading techniques, etc. I felt like I was watching a film from the 70s. I didn't pick up on it initially, I'm not a movie nerd, but you can't help but feel drawn back into that time if you have actually lived through it.

One last last note: I have a sincere sense of gratitude for all those who showed up for this shoot, taking place over 2 days. These images would not have been possible without them. THANK YOU!

The little lamp series turns 20.

This started out as a lark when Kara grabbed my floor lamp at home, wanting to pose with it. It became a popular image on the old modelling sites, and when I moved into my first studio the little lamp came with me, not to use as a prop but for low ambient light since I was constantly tripping over cords and stands. It still happened, of course. Do all photographers trip as much as I do? Eventually people noticed the lamp and asked if they could pose with it. I was like, "Nah, it's already been done by Kara, and I love those images."

Kara and the Little Lamp. Basement Studio

Eventually, after a few people requested it, I had the brilliant idea of doing a series. Okay, yeah... I mean anyone else would have seen this as an opportunity but I'm a bit thick sometimes.

Looking back at the metadata, Rachel was likely the first participant. She was also the last participant in my Torso series, the last series I did when I let the lease go in 2019.

Rachel – first Little Lamp images for the Series.

Eventually, several people came forward to do the series. Some were people I had previously worked with, some were friends, some became friends.

Jess, Tam, and Beatrix Mae

Others I had never met before and would not see again.

And some I had just met became friends.

Marla and Aenux

One came back for more.

Jess

Some I'd work with again once or twice or meet at events.

The little lamp is still around and still functional, and I'm debating if this is a thing I'd want to revisit. It was so much fun and I love doing image series and getting different people involved. It's such a unique way to see the personalities and character of people come through.

When I ask myself questions, I'll often look at other lines of thinking to find truths. Certain patterns repeat themselves throughout nature and experience. The branching pattern of trees also exists in river deltas and our lungs. We recognize these as systems that distribute or gather resources. So in answering the question, "What is beauty?" I thought of Viktor Frankl's thoughts on meaning and purpose. Is there something in the way that Frankl understood the need for purpose that I can use to understand beauty?

What I got from reading Man's Search for Meaning is that finding meaning in life is necessary for our survival. We find meaning through purpose. We often end up running around trying to find purpose, needing it to be some grand thing. That's what our ego wants.

For me, this is where the idea of surrender comes in and dovetails into many religious and philosophical texts. If we surrender to the idea that it's all beyond our comprehension, then "lifting water and chopping wood" can be the purpose in our life that gives it a deeper meaning. We need purpose to have a meaningful life, but purpose isn't some abstract thing we need to find outside of ourselves. It's an attitude or a way of viewing the world that gives it meaning. It's what we bring to each moment, not what life hands out to us. Does this logic then apply to beauty?

We're constantly looking for things to fascinate us, to make us feel something, to make us engage, to trigger that almighty mix of chemicals in our skulls. If the above is true, then this is the wrong approach. Beauty doesn't exist out there for us to find. It's an attitude and approach that we take toward the world, ourselves, and each other. The same is true when we dismiss something as ugly or unworthy of attention. That judgment is an attitude we bring with us, not a quality that we discover. So maybe the question isn't 'What is beauty?' but 'Will I choose to see it?'

I found a new word the other day. Shibui. Another one of those wonderful Japanese words that describe so much but in itself is hard to pin down. English words that are used to describe it are "subtle" and "unobtrusive beauty". It can refer to an economy of line, form, and effort. As a very famous creative director said, "Simplicity on the other side of complexity." I went through my work looking for images that I felt resonated with that concept. I think much of my work does, but at that time I couldn't find any that vibed with the idea. Then, semi-randomly, I found this set.

A shout out to Alexia Day, always an inspiration. Her subtle movement and expression, to me, capture what shibui means.

Love these film images of Ashley taken with my Fuji Super 6 rangefinder. What a bear to use though. The lens has real character, but I find myself often making unintentional double exposures: the shutter sticks and film scratches. I was never one for toy cameras, but I'm starting to lean into this one's faults. Faults. Character. Can be one and the same in cameras and in people. Just a matter of perspective sometimes.

I'm going through the archives, looking to use some of my old work as drawing reference. I use to pick one pose out of set and never show the rest. Thinking that somehow showing more it some how diluted the work that I did show. I think it does... sometimes. I'm now thinking I thought too much about it.