I may observe that the sun rising through fog has an odd coral glow. I may glance over at tidy rows of coloured pencils and be pleased by their order...but these are momentary distractions only, quickly cast aside in pursuit of whatever goal the day demands of me.
.To make time pause in its tracks, I turn to my camera. I've learned that photography involves more than calculating f-stops or reading the manual from cover to cover.
We are currently exploring place, my camera and I, in particular the places people call home. The word means something different to each of us, but though locations may change and styles may vary, home is univerally considered the place where we can be ourselves
and home to roughly fifty people who live
and work in a manner closely linked to their heritage.
Imbued with a palpable sense of history and times past, weathered homes on stilts and floats lie nestled in the slough, some accessible only by a rickety wooden drawbridge. Although close to Richmond and Vancouver, this village has a charm and simplicity that set it well apart from the modern urban areas that crowd around it and threaten it's future.