Since I’ve already shared my favourite urban shots, it only seems appropriate that I also share my favourite rural images. Here you go!
Sorry for the lapse in consistency… I took the weekend off… from this very, very strenuous challenge. :P
Day three and I’m sharing some of what I think are some of my most exciting images – the Quad Trees. Basically, they’re tree portraits, mirrored horizontally and then mirrored again vertically. So simple, but the results are intricate and beautiful (IMHO).
Day two of the challenge, and I’ve decided to share some of my favourite urban shots.
When I was growing up, I always said that I’d never live in a city… the bustle, the odor, the expense… I just couldn’t see myself dealing with it all that well, after growing up in rural Essex County. But I was wrong. I loved living in Toronto. I love living in Windsor now, and before that London. Everything at your fingertips, and there is no need for a car. :)
My friend Stef challenged me… post three pieces of your artwork and nominate two of your friends to join the challenge each day, for five days. That’s five projects, and 15 pieces of art, and 10 friends. That’s a beautiful spreadsheet. Are charts and graphs considered art?
Love that song. Can’t look at a pie chart without it popping into my head.
Anyways – down to business. The first three pieces of art are from a TtVF series I did back in 2006. There’s four pics, the last is of the contraption I McGuyvered together to get my digital SLR to shoot Through the ViewFinder of my twin lens reflex medium format film camera. The contraption is so big because my 18-85mm doesn’t focus that close. :/
Working in retail makes it tough.
Today a woman came in to pick up her order, and when she was told it wasn’t ready just yet, she proceeded to bitch and moan about how she got an email saying it was, indeed, ready for her to pick up. I explained to her why she received that email prematurely; the message is sent automatically by head office in Mississauga one hour after we start working on the order, but Mississauga has no idea when we have technical difficulties with our machines, which is, sadly, often.
She then starts yammering about how flawed that system is (preaching to the choir, yo), and how inconvenient this is for her and blah blah blah. But all throughout her tirade, she’s dropping f-bombs on me. I finally just said, “Whoa, language.”
She glared at me and angrily retorted, “What, you’ve never heard the word ‘fuck’ before?”
“Of course I have, but not so much in public and not so much at work,” I answered. “It’s a respect thing, for me.”
Then she says… and really, this should make me laugh, but honestly, it just makes me more despondent … “It’s got nothing to do with respect,” (clearly, I thought after), “It’s just the proper use of the English language.”
There were so many things wrong with her response, it soured my entire morning. It stung even more, knowing that my assistant manager didn’t have my back at all. I wasn’t expecting her to throw down the gloves or anything, but a calm statement about treating retail employees like humans with feelings would’ve sufficed.
And there, we’ve hit the root of the problem. Customer service representatives are not humans with feelings, are they? They are made in a factory in China somewhere with the sole purpose of serving the public while getting shit on, made up of a resilient polymer that sloughs off the filth with hardly any work at all. The shiny exterior so slick and non-porous that even those that live and work closely with them mistake these droids for their original mould. But they are truly, truly fake.
At least the good ones are.
So, now that I’ve written this, two paths stretch out clear in front of me.
Do I aspire to become an exemplary CSR, disingenuous and sparkly, lobotomized happily ever after?
Or do I uphold my own integrity, spit out the blood from biting my tongue so much and try to survive, however miserably?
I wish I had a choice.
I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve lost my creative force. I can’t say which is the cause, and which is the affect. Blogging was a motivation for me, though, and I miss being creative. So I’m going to start blogging again.
I’m listening to Alt-J’s new album, This Is All Yours, and it’s good. I can’t tell if it’s as good as their first album, yet, but it’s definitely Alt-J. I do love a distinct sound. Anyways, I’m listening to this album, and my speakers are also picking up the CB radio conversation happening in my neighbourhood. The thing is, it kinda works. Only Alt-J.
A couple photos…
I just wanted to jot down quickly how I’ve been obsessed with the television series Battlestar Galactica lately (it happens), and I want to impress on any reader how well the show is done, and how it’s been reaffirming thoughts I’m having concerning why were all here on this big rock (I’m telling you, it’s that kind of a show).
I kind of feel like an idiot, because when I pinpointed why I think we exist, it seemed like a no brainer. It’s love, dammit. Finding those people out there who will reciprocate a passion, whom you can share your life with. Finding out who those people are is a whole other ball of wax.
Anyways, in the show there’s a group of human-made robots (the Cylons) who have evolved to look exactly like their makers, and whose last battle for the complete humanitizing of their kind is the struggle to find (and keep) love. The meaning of life.