Cape Spear, Newfoundland

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I remain unintrigued by those pretty, smooth, predictable offerings that have been primped for the eye and sheltered from actuality. Show me instead something that bears the scars of chronological intervals and atmospheric temperaments. 

The abandoned barracks at what was once named Fort Cape Spear are a haunting display of such an establishment! Constructed in 1941, they didn't even get to experience any World War II action, having been built in anticipation of attacks that never happened. I find it somewhat sad that so much work was put into constructing bunkers and messhalls to house soldiers that never got to fight, but it did serve its purpose just the same: to protect the entry into St. John's Harbour.

I love this surreal, haunting, almost confusing image. My first thought is that it looks like a grotesque picture that has been framed and hung on an equally grotesque wall. It is, in fact, a shieldless window with veritable depth behind it that just happened to have been unmaintained for a few decades! The only action this site sees now is from touring visitors.

The Chateau Laurier in Ottawa

                                                                                                                                     © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

So it would really be fine with me if my living room were to exude the character and class of the lobby of the Chateau Laurier.. I love that there is so much space but yet the furniture is arranged to instigate intimate conversation or perhaps a spirited exchange of opinions or even some provocative banter. How could any interaction be mundane while surrounded by rich, stately mahogany walls adorned with exquisite evidence of Karsh's photographic wisdom and artistry.. nary a lego brick or beheaded Nintendo figure or diminished crayon in sight. I love elementary creative play, but this.. this is a place for elegance and sophistication.. at least it is in my mind:

I step onto the lush carpet, breathtakingly adorned in a crimson floor-length Vera Wang gown and sky high Christian Louboutin pumps. The plunging neckline is gracefully bare, providing a silky backdrop for the sparkling chandeliers that are dancing suggestively from my earlobes. I am promptly greeted by the one smiling face that I intensely wanted to see and soon find myself the recipient of some proficiently delivered compliments that coat my ears like warm literary chocolate.  My expression ameliorates into a unavoidable smile as I accept the warm, outstretched hand that hovers before me and drift through the door in a swirl of satin leaving nothing behind but invisible streams of air delicately infused with Chanel No. 5.

Manhattan

October, 2010

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved


It was actually pretty exhilerating to be on a subway heading for the home turf of the Staten Island Ferry and not being absolutely certain that we were on the right train or going in the right direction! I mean, we had a good idea, but it's not like were following a tour guide. My philosophy when sightseeing and spelunking is to have conducted some research ahead of time, and to ask somebody for direction when you know you are close.

My research consists of entering the city on Google Maps and producing a few schematics - printed evidence of having zoomed in both directions - and bringing them with me. Then, when I am there, I query someone who is in a position to safely and reasonably point me in the right direction. Done deal. GPS devices need not apply.

So as we were swiftly moving towards our destination, the possibility manifested that our train was Brooklyn bound. I don't recall why this was perceived as adverse information, but it didn't phase me. If we were taken further than we were expecting to go, we'll just go back.... all part of the adventure! And as you can see from the picture, we did make it there, because Bowling Green is pretty much around the corner from the dock!

This is me "Enjoy(ing) a perfect morning drive" on a shuttle in downtown Chicago

July 2010

                                                                                                                     © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

What makes your morning drive perfect? Does it depend on your eventual destination or what sort of activity awaits your attention upon your arrival? Or are you able to isolate your journey from its completion and derive pleasure simply from the changing scenery that scrolls past your vision and the control that you untimately have over your your gas pedal and your GPS? Perhaps the events that preceded your morning drive are still pirouetting around in your head and affecting your excursion, be it negatively or positively.

Does it depend on the temperament of the atmosphere.. whether or not the sun is gleefully lighting your way? Maybe it's governed by the person occupying the seat next to you or behind you, or the absense of anyone at all.

How about traffic? Does the imposition of congested avenues force your blood pressure to soar and your mood to plummet as your hands impatiently grip the steering wheel in frustration? Or do you merely sit and wait, listening to your favourite tunes, accepting as a part of life the fact that many other people just happen to be travelling in the same direction as you at any given hour?

Perhaps you are just not a morning person and the phrase 'perfect morning drive' is completely non-existent in your world because you would not be driving anywhere before noon if it were up to you! Or maybe you agree with whoever posted this ad on the side of the Grey Line Shuttle Bus and believe that the perfect morning drive can only take place on a golf course.

For me on that day, the morning drive was indeed perfect because instead of being tasked with maneuvering a vehicle in a complex, unfamiliar downtown, I was instead able to relax and revel in my eclectic urban surroundings, just as a person on vacation ought to do!

By the way, I am in the upper left corner of the picture, sitting on the bus behind the girl in the white headband, shooting our reflection!

Conception Bay South, Newfoundland

                                                                                                                                          © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

My favourite beach is quite a different place under winter's grasp. I can't immediately recall when it was that I shot this, but my guess would be about 15 years ago because I haven't participated in a Newfoundland winter in just about as long.

But I absolutely remember the bracing experience of shooting it! We weren't exploring on foot that day therefore I wasn't at all prepared for exterior activity. But that row of icy metamorphosed rocks! I couldn't resist! As soon as I emerged from the comfort of our vehicle, the fierce wind and resulting turbulence of the ocean was fantastic and unbelievably daunting. It prompted that feeling of being utterly minuscule in the face of nature's power. I love how wild the water looks here, swirling and crashing in every direction, unleashing itself onto the shore and teaching those idle rocks a thing or two! And with each frigid wash, it would leave behind an icy glaze that grew increasingly thicker and slipperier and more lustrous. I marvelled at the entire production for only a few minutes before falling back into the car's warm bucket seat and pulling the door closed, leaving the wind to return its attention to the ocean.