Passing the torch? Teaching the younglings? work in progress

Today was a red-letter day. Not the kind of "Your account is past-due, please pay us now" kind of red-letter day, but rather, parenting done right kind of day. Since 2012, I have been making a pilgrimage of sorts to the Vancouver Motorcycle Show, in the Abbotsford Tradex. I have gone by myself, with friends, and now this year, with my son. Let me regale you how this came about....

The Motorcycle Show is a welcome break in a long winter. To a biker, winter is an unfriendly, unholy penalty for having too much fun in summer. Thus, winter takes on an extra unpleasantness. I have not found anything that replaces, or even soothes the loss I feel when my bike becomes parked due to snow or lack of insurance. Taking a 4 hour bus ride through treacherous mountainous passes just to rub your genitals on motorcycles that hundreds before you have rubbed their genitals and warmed the seats on, seems like a reasonable trade, to relieve the misery of winter.

Last year, I may have said to Evan, "One year, I will take you to the show" and he took that to mean, "This year we are going to the Motorcycle show!" and it's a good thing we did!  Turns out, the bus trip is less and less attended every year, and the proprietors of the bus are considering cancelling the program after this year. We bounced out of bed bright and shiny at before 6 am, ready for a big adventure in the city. I had my apprehensions, bringing mini-me to an environment that pushes my tolerances to their breaking point, but we went anyway. Good learning opportunity for the lad, I reasoned, seeing his dad freak out on some dumbass that stopped in a walkway to gawk at something shiny.

My apprehensions, though totally valid, were unfounded, as Evan ran through the show like a nut-starved squirrel seeing an oak forest for the first time. All the manufacturers lifting their skirts and showing their wares, with a grizzled dad offering opinions on many of the bikes on display.  The highlight for Evan by far was the Yamaha Young Riders Academy, where kids can get suited up in proper riding gear, taught by the famous Clinton Smout, and set free on little blue Yamaha's, to careen around and fully embrace a junkie's addiction to the two wheeled sport. Now I need to figure out a way to buy a truck and utility trailer, to haul the dirt bikes we need to buy, out to the trails.

The Perfect Motorcycle

What is the perfect motorcycle? How long is a piece of string? What secret chord did David play to please the Lord? (borrowed from Leonard Cohen there) I have ridden many different motorcycles over the years, and like a woman, each has its beauty. In many ways, comparing a motorcycle to a woman is a good analogy: a curvy barmaid who’s up for anything; a sophisticated redhead whose business attire does not reveal the tiger print just below her skirt. A motorcycle should thrill the rider; it is designed that way. I’ve heard it said that if you can walk away from your motorcycle after you park it, and not look back to admire it, you have bought the wrong motorcycle. 

And yet, the quality that makes one cycle attractive is also its flaw. Riding that curvy Italian sport bike, you assume a position similar to sex, but like sex, it is not meant to go for hours, despite what Sting says. That brash, tattooed American cruiser, so loud in the tunnels and on the open road, loses her voice when pavement turns to gravel. The Goldwing that can be ridden like a living room recliner from coast to coast, resembles a motorhome in its shape and demeanor. The plastic wrapped universal motorcycle, with its cowled body panels and bright colours, inevitably promises more than it delivers. 

With a motorcycle, you fall in love in an instant. A sound, a feeling, a position, a look or a lifestyle accessory, attraction to a motorcycle is not gradual; it is primal.  A motorcycle does not grow like fungus on a toenail on its rider; it either captures your imagination or it doesn’t. It promises freedom, excitement, escape, or reputation, all within its metal curves. My motorcycle promises long range, incredibly long range with no fuel anxiety. Smooth performance. Understated sophistication, like confidence walking into a bar. The confidence of not competing with anyone else for the prize; it is knowing that there is no prize, there is only life.

It doesn’t promise a smooth ride, floating over life’s ripples without notice. It promises to experience the road, to feel it on its own terms. It is the Tao, the Way. It is meditation, mixed with desire. 

And then you realize you have the perfect motorcycle.

The inevitable tragedy

Dear reader, It has been too long since I have written. And indeed, I have no idea if anyone actually reads my blog. No matter. Today's post is dedicated to Robin Williams. An actor I have admired since 1989 when I convinced my parents to give me a ride to town to watch Dead Poets Society in the movie theater in Williams Lake. For years, I wanted a tattoo that said Carpe Diem! And that in itself is significant. How does one profess to a philosophy of Carpe Diem, then pine away, wishing for the courage to tattoo Carpe Diem on your arm? That dichotomy will be another post, someday. I was affected deeply by Robin Williams passing. I haven't told anyone this, but I felt deep sadness when I read he died, as though a friend had passed away. I could relate to Robin Williams; he was an approachable human being. He struggled mightily in this world. He was gifted. He was talented. And most importantly, he was humble. I believe that the world has lost a great human being. The world today is hard. Polarization of opinions lead people to loudly proclaim, I am right, and if you do not agree, you must be an idiot! It saddens me to read of Gene Simmons comments to go ahead and jump, if you are struggling with depression. Yes, he tried to retract and clarify them, after it embarrassed him, but Jesus man! Don't you have a filter that stops you from saying that? Study the Tao - I recommend it for anyone. Study it, and you will be aware that one of the four cardinal virtues of Taoism is to have reverence for all life. Another is to embody the virtue of Gentleness. What do you gain by slagging and criticizing someone who has given up? What do you reap with that hard attitude? It is far better to try to understand the profound decision he came to, rather than criticizing him for it. Gene, would you say that in front of his children? Or in front of your children? I was out recently talking to someone, and asked if he had heard about Robin Williams. He replied that he was an IDIOT in life, and now he is an IDIOT in death, and an IDIOT for eternity. Well, I disagree. Perhaps if all you watch is Fox News, and you haven't thought for yourself since the nineties, that might be true, but really? There is no call to negate this mans whole career to make talking points at a BBQ. What are my thoughts on this? Do they matter? Well, no, they don't, because this was his struggle - not ours, not mine, and not yours. On the day he died, I went and watched "The Fisher King" one of my all time favorite movies, and celebrated the vanquishing of the Red Knight and the quest for the Holy Grail. It is still, and will always be, one of my favorite movies. I believe he was a great human being. I believe he struggled mightily with depression, one of the most misunderstood ailments out there. As much as I would love to believe you can cure yourself with positive thoughts, I don't think it is true. You can only dampen the pain that you feel. And for someone like Robin Williams, who had highs and lows like mountain peaks and valleys, it was not enough. Why judge him now? You only reveal yourself to be of slight character. If anyone out there still reads my blog, realize this: Everyone is fighting their own battle, and it is unbenkownst to you. Give them the freedom to do so. And if someone succumbs to their demons, do not jump all over them for it. It demeans you more than it demeans them. Their struggle is over, but yours is continuing. Better to look to yourself, to your own hate, and ask, Where did that come from? And How did I get to this point? Those questions will reap better answers than the approach you took. -30-

Everything is exactly the way it has to be. It cannot be any different.

I am continually astounded at how life works, how it is a serendipitous blend of coincidence, fate and the law of attraction at work. I don't believe in luck; I believe you bring it with you. Let me take the dear reader down a path now, a series of events that are too fantastical to dream up. I bought a motorcycle recently, a 1997 BMW F650 with next to no miles on it. Immediately, I fell in love with riding it, as I feel like I am riding a swiss army knife of capabilities, only limited by my own skill at keeping the shiny side up. Gravel? No problem. Commuting? Easy-peasy. Sunday ride? Comfortable. Touring? Hmm, can someone tour on an F650? We'll see. I needed an oil change, as the previous owner couldn't tell me when the last time it was changed, so I began researching my options. An F650 is a little more complicated than just undoing a plug and watching it pour out - there is oil in the frame that must come out too, by taking off panels and hoses and working uncomfortably close to hot exhaust pipes. At least, that is my impression of the process. I opted to take it to Bentley Motorrad, as they had a wonderful sale on. As I waited the hour or so that it takes to change oil, the salesman commented to me that someone had ridden my exact bike around the globe, and written a book about it, to boot! This was instantly interesting to me, and I looked at the book several times before reluctantly putting it down and buying a baseball cap, instead. I rode home and thought that I must look for this book sometime. The book is by Rene Cormier, and is titled "The University of Gravel Roads - Global Lessons from a four year motorcycle adventure" and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes to dream of the road less travelled. Fast forward one week. I'm at work, and someone needs a passport photo taken. I take his membership card, and saw the same name as the book I'd been looking at a week earlier. I asked if he was the same guy that wrote the adventure travel book, and he was flabbergasted that I recognized him. I was then flabbergasted that I was in the presence of someone who had proven that I just bought the best motorcycle ever made, and my mind raced madly to ask him intelligent questions about the bike. Sadly, I left my mind in neutral, so it spun madly but made no traction. In a blinding flash of inspired action, I asked if he would be interested in having coffee the next morning and we could discuss bikes, travel and some of the more interesting aspects of riding. He agreed, and the next day spent an hour talking shop. When I look back at how serendipitous that whole meeting was, I cannot believe it was chance. Chance is finding a twenty on the ground. In order for that meeting to take place, I had to have a) bought a BMW F650; b) needed an oil change at the same time that Bentley had such a wonderful sale, that I didn't want to bother to change it myself; found myself with an hour to spare in the store where the book was located; not to mention all the events that led up to him needing a passport photo, coming to our office and having no other agents available to help. Chance? I don't think so. Law of Attraction? I leave it to the reader to decide. I will end this post with a photo of my handlebars, with one of my favorite sayings on it.

Of compassion and sharing

Last night, Evan and I were getting ready for one of Evan's greatest pleasures: watching cartoons in Daddy's office. I prepared a wonderful snack for this grand affair: slices of pear, and a nice bowl of raisins. While we were watching cartoons, as he sat in Daddy's office chair and eating pears and raisins, Evan looked at me sitting on a wooden box beside him. Without saying a word, he reached into his bowl and passed me a little handful of raisins. Then he went back to eating raisins and watching Max and Ruby.

A simple story, yet I promise you, dear reader, that it occurred exactly as I described it.

The importance of music cannot be understated in society. When I see world news, when I see Gaddafi using cigar sized bullets on his own citizens, when I read about lying Canadian politicians, the only thing that pulls me back is music. Its too much. The soul cannot take so much deception.

I thank God for music, for visionaries like Tom Cochrane, Tim Williams, Tom Waits, Gordie Johnson, Leonard Cohen, Mike Plume, and Chris Rea. For having the strength to create music to lift the spirits of those who listen. For having the creativity to enlighten us with a message you want to send. Whether you sing about the Alberta oilpatch, a baseball player and Marilyn Monroe, a picture in a frame, or an Inn, you have brightened my existence in such a profound way, I don't know how to thank you.

But let me just say, Thank you.

Happy Hallowe'en

To all the other superheroes out there...

Poppa

August 14, 2010: after waking up at 5:30 am, Evan played for a while, then to our relief, showed signs of tiring. As I tried to put him down, he fussed and woke up, so I rocked him back asleep and let him sleep on my lap. I watched him for quite a while, sitting there in the campsite, and eventually he stirred. He yawned, gazed up at me for a moment, then quietly said, "Poppa."

I will remember this moment for the rest of my life.
Thanks to Tania for capturing this image.

Evan is growing!

It is unbelievable the changes we see day by day in Evan. He discovers things continually, and learns very quickly. Sometimes I see a change from the time I go to work, until the time I come home. Amazing.

For the photography-minded, this was lit with window light only, camera right. I love my 85mm lens, wide open!

Goodbye Oma - you will be missed.

Today, my oma passed away, after a long struggle with cancer. She was almost 97 years old. One of my favorite memories of Oma was talking to her about the difference between asking "How are you today?" in Canada versus asking in Holland. In Canada, most people are happy with answering "Fine, thanks" or "Not too bad", but in Holland, the question meant "How are you today, really? Or maybe that was just Oma, keeping it real. Anyway, I've never forgotten that conversation, and when I ask "How are you today?" what I'm really asking is "How are you really?" Thank you Oma, for showing me how to bring more depth to my relationships, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate our conversations. I am proud that I had the opportunity to introduce you to my wife, Tania. I am happy to have known you.

What if...

you forgot that you couldn't do something? Follow me if you will, a moment. What if you were able to leave that voice behind, the one that says you can't play guitar, or you can't shoot professionally, or that you can't sing all that well. Imagine the music you would make if you woke up tomorrow and forgot all that criticism.

I like to think that we would all be geniuses, if only we could forget that we can't play.

Our house is for sale!

Our house is for sale! Tell your friends! Tell your wife! Buy our house!
http://www.12619giantsheadroad.blogspot.com/

A Perfect evening

Every once in a blue moon comes a perfect evening - where food, drink and conversation blend to form an amazing experience where we all have a chance to get to know one another better. Here's to good evenings with friends and family.

Reflections on Failure

This is not meant to be one of those New Year's Resolutions posts. Rather, I prefer to sit and reflect on how I've done during the last year, and how I can make meaningful, long term improvements in my life. As many of you know, one of my goals in life is to be a great photographer. To this end, I promote myself when I can, and I throw myself completely into anything that I do. Knowing that, I choose not to shoot weddings. They're just not my style, and nothing more.

However, I do enjoy shooting commercial, and shooting editorial. I enjoy the challenge of lighting, the connection with my subject, and the look of the finished work. I get a deep sense of satisfaction when a final image I've envisioned becomes real, and I strive to create that.

As I mentioned earlier, I like to sit and reflect on the year gone by, and see where I can do better. And this year, I saw how I could have been a better photographer - not in technique, or lighting, or subject - but in marketing. In sales, there is a phrase called "the Silver Platter." The theory behind that is that it takes on average, 5 calls to a client to make a sale. Most sales professionals make 4 calls, then conclude the buyer isn't interested, and walk away. The next person that walks by and says "Do ya wanna buy one?" gets the sale, and the original salesperson wonders why nobody wants his product. This has happened to me several times, and indeed, just recently.

For the coming year, I intend to become better at showing my work, and to be persistent in calling clients. It does no one a service when I hold back and doubt what I can do, and someone less talented does the work. Ah, but there's the rub: confidence isn't something on sale in aisle 3. How do I promote myself in such a way that doesn't come across as arrogant, but talented instead? How do I handle myself in such a way that a client knows I will photograph his product as I would my own baby? How do I communicate to people the belief in what I do? I don't need a course in photography - I need a course in marketing. 2010 will be the year I learn to market myself more effectively.

I missed your call...

For those of you waiting for a phone call, this will have to do. I cannot speak on the telephone anymore, as I can't stand losing my voice to choking up. As much as I would want to phone you, please accept this instead. Justin, Shawna, Jon,  Bree, Jenn, Bubsie, Carl & Naomi, Tom & Lynn, Gaia & Remy, Guido, Egon, Joost, Marius, Merelyn, Estelle, Oma, John and Doris, Jon Izzard, Tim, Mike, Stephen, Carol, Diane, Elaine, Tannis & Paul, Gener & Korol, Jill & Boris, Jason, Peter, Ginger, Reg and Lou, Lark, Dennis & Lara, Lee, Sensei Bill, Rene, Barb, Estelle, Slawek, Robin, Vic, Del, Larry, Don, Kari, Amy, Levi, Murray & Natalie, Adrian & Sarah, Pat & Sayeed, Art & Myra, Beth, Alethea, Maureen, Clint, I would love to phone you personally, but I can't. I can't talk about what a change this is, about how different things are, how profound the changes life takes once you look down at a child you created.

Maybe in the next couple of weeks, I might be able to call. Until then, know that I was thinking of you, just couldn't speak, that's all.

Our son Evan was born today.

How to describe the birth of a child, to someone who has never seen it? How to describe the emotional cataclysm that is childbirth, when all you can use is English? I thought a wedding was intense, but I had words for that. This, this is different. I have no words that would effectively describe what has happened in the last 2 days, and so I leave the dear reader with some of the images I captured yesterday, and the day before.

Our son is happy, healthy, and was born with hair. We are very pleased, and relieved that 28 hours of labour are over.

Kees & Tania

You can't go back.

So, I was thinking about progress today. As much as I would like the world to stay as it is, to pause while I live my life in a nice, comfortable pocket, life isn't like that. It never has been. Like an ebbing tide, the world changes in infinitesimal ways, some cataclysmic, and some not, but it is swirls and swishes and flows. And those that choose to ignore it are doomed, because they go against nature. When I reflect back upon the irresistable forces moving forward, I stand in the way of a tsunami. And as Tom Cochrane said, in between ten glorious minutes of guitar solos, "You can't turn back".

Ever try to go back to an ex-girlfriend, or an old job? Ever try to move back to an old town where you had grown up? How did that feel? I'll bet it felt like climbing up a sewer pipe that was emptying into a treatment plant. You're fighting against the flow, instead of moving with it.

So what does that mean? The road to failure leads back the way you came, but where does the road to success lead? For millenia, mankind has looked to mythology for answers, and more importantly, for inspiration. Study the myth of the hero, and you find someone moving forth, encountering adversity, but always advancing. The hero never goes back to his old life as a shepherd or farm hand; he has outgrown that life. And by the same token, someone who stays in one place, doing the same thing they've always done, eventually becomes an object of ridicule because the world understands that people have to advance, to grow, to fulfill their destiny. A twenty-something looks different sitting in a club than a thirty-something does, in a sinister sort of way.

I see this in my art; when I choose to photograph someone in a safe way, in a way I've always done, I move backwards, not forward. It is only when I can face my fears, to advance in the face of critisism or scorn, that I become greater. It is then that I dip deep into the well that is my soul and bring forth what I could be. The critic lives in situations like those, but so does progress. Honestly, I can say that I am mired in the mundane now; it has been months since I felt the thrill of doing something new, or of giving myself permission to fail, in pursuit of success. I feel myself slipping downhill, in my courage and my skills, which are slowly rusting from disuse. It is safer not to try than to muddle around, looking for creativity.

Move forward, always. And if not forward, move laterally; it will feel better than standing still. And if God has led you to the mountain to teach you, don't insult Him by walking down to the valley. Instead, look around, and be open.

Maternity shoot!

Tania and I did our first maternity shoot today; I'm still getting the hang of it, but I think it went well! Love to hear the comments!

The Signs are All Around Us...

Yesterday was a mystical day for me. In preparation for teaching a workshop at the Summerland Art Gallery, I chose a favorite copy of Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist as a door prize - a 10th Anniversary edition, in hardcover. Has nothing to do with photography, per se, but everything to do with life, living and pursuing your dreams, and inspiration. During the workshop, we had a wonderful discussion about Paulo Coelho, and I started to muse about omens. An omen is a sign; they tell us when we are on track, and when we are not. Like the proverbial dandilion seeds, when we look at the omens scattered through our lives, we can see whether we are pursuing our dreams, or fleeing them. Having been in full retreat from my dreams in the past, I looked with new wonder at the signs that my dreams are starting to flourish now. I was content.

The workshop went better than expected, and I really felt that I helped everyone understand the basics of digital photography a little better. A day like yesterday helped me to remember that I am moving towards my goals, and they are attainable.

Anniversaries

Yesterday, I celebrated one year with my beautiful bride Tania. We celebrated by eating at a restaurant on the lake, literally on the water, at Okanagan Lake. It was warm enough we could eat outside, listening to the waves, and the occasional boat drive by. It was a perfect evening, and a perfect way to celebrate two soulmates being together. Here's to another 25 years of bliss!