With Sainte-Chapelle’s stained glass delights still dancing in my memories I began to follow the signposts to its neighboring sight-seeing giant, Notre Dame. Reflecting on the unwelcome prospect of wading through the forecasted crowds I quickly found myself sending out a ping on the Distraction Radar. There! The glint of a small brass object shook my sight from the windows of an animated cafe and I found myself inspecting a beautiful bicycle bell. Enamoured with how it shined it was an easy decision to photograph it. One shuffle for a different angle through my lens revealed that it was observing me just as intently! Laughing at the discovery I gleefully captured our impressions of each other. Continue reading “Travel Selfies: 8 Ways to up Your Game”
Embedded in every human being is an instinctual terror of spaces that fail to stimulate our senses. When the woods go quiet. When we can’t place what we are tasting. Or can’t quite register what is crawling across our skin. But the greatest fear of all bubbles to the surface when we lack sight. As a curtain of clouds swallowed the view atop the Snub I marvelled at how suppressed that fear seemed inside of me. Was it experience or lack of it, which was generating this quiet confidence? Continue reading “The Snub: Hiking in Glen Clova, Scotland”
Hi guys! As it’s International Photography Day today I thought I’d put together an impromtu collection of my 20 favourite pics from my travels! Let me know if you have a favourite and I’ll send you a high resolution version of it for your phone, homescreen or wall!
Pop. Pop. Kipow. Screeeaaachhhh! Pop. Pop. Poppoppopopopopop. Pop……..
The crowd woops and cheers as the announcer jumps to his mike and shouts out a send off. As the crowd thins I gaze over at the empty sky. Something was different about these fireworks. What was it?
I peered into the water, edging closer to study the colours. A deep, dark blue bled into purple, which blended into a blood-red that faded into a vibrant yellow at my feet. It was strangely reminiscent of Microsoft Powerpoint gradient images. Around me a wall of stone was slowly crumbling into the rainbow lake at its heart. A mossy green crept around the fragmented stones. I shook my head. It’s strange to know that biology is not the source of this vibrant scene. Continue reading “Visiting Tharsis Mine (’cause rainbows)”
As we climbed higher the vegetation began to scatter. The land was slowly balding. Rocks jutted from the ground around scraggly shrubs. As the road curved I realized we would be piercing the crown of rock. Mount Teide had loomed in our discussions of places to visit for weeks, but my partner’s parents had wanted to wait for the veil of calima to dissipate.
This was finally it! I’d be travelling into my first volcano crater in moments! My heart began to flutter as fast as the screeching wind ripping past the car.
Then the wall swallowed us up and spit us out into the devil’s arena.
As you may have guessed from my last post and my absentness this week—I went home to Alberta, Canada! Ooo I gathered as much of that awesome Alberta soul as I could carry! I was like a worn teddy bear being stuffed with fresh cotton.
I was absolutely mesmerized, dazzled and comforted by the crystal night sky, the magnificent sunsets and the warmth of my family. After the brief trip I realized visiting home could be just as enriching as visiting the most exotic lands. Here’s why:
There’s definitely something mind-blowing about walking past a cat-eyed woman with snow-white hair.
Of course, as human beings surrounded by many doubtful human beings we feel the need to obtain some kind of evidence to prove that we did in fact witness a blonde haired, green clad, pointy-eared elf eat some candy.
The Internet plays at being a double-edged sword for niche communities. On the one hand misinterpretation of anything can lead to swaths of negative reactions and niche cultures are particularly vulnerable to misunderstandings.
However, while it can chop your head off, it can just as easily fire a beam of light into the sky alerting people to the greatness that wields the sword…
Down the lane cheers began to bob into the sky, buoyed by the crowd’s anticipation. In the baby-blue overhead a helicopter hovered above the source of excitement, a further indicator that something grand was coming. My camera trigger finger twitched as everything drew closer. I was on the street leaning past a wall of my fellow spectators. We were two banks waiting for the river to flow.
Suddenly it rounded the corner. A tsunami of colours, tires, helmets and faces fiercely focused on the starting line just a few meters beyond.
Intent on capturing some photos I mashed my face against my camera and clicked away. Through my telephoto lens the mass grew substantially, bloating like a balloon on a high-pressure hose. Lifting my eyes from the camera window I instantly realized I was alone and in trouble.
I was about to be mowed down by the Tour De France.
By the feeble light of our phone flashes we trudged on. It was pitch black. I hadn’t experienced that kind of darkness in a long time. It engulfed everything and seemed to eat at the little light we had at our disposal.