Delta Armoury Reflection in London, ON

 

"...the grass is always greener but you still have to cut it..." - Hawksley Workman

 

 

Usually, when the urge to get away pokes at the arm and tickles at the sides, plans are knit together for an evening away at a hotel, usually in Toronto. In August, however, the decision was embraced to stay in London instead. Here was a city I had never explored but one with which my travelling companion had developed close relations while achieving a degree at Western University some years ago.

Unbeknownst to me during the planning stages, this trip would end up tickling more than just one of my sides. It indulged my creative side, my musical side, my dreamy side, and my determined side that perpetually aspires to do more. Inspiration nudged up against me many times. Thankfully, I took notes.

So plans were made to visit London and stay at the gorgeously renovated Delta Armoury, but that's about it. Other than a sold-out Hawksley Workman concert at Aeolian Hall, there weren't any events that caught our eye. But that was fine - there was market-hopping and window-gazing and idea-mingling to facilitate our desire for an escape. The concert tickets remained in the backs of our minds, but the possibility of attending was creeping further and further away as the start time approached. Mere hours before the show, we finally scored entry thanks to an early morning hail-mary Kijiji ad seeking a pair tickets to the show!

I had first discovered the music of the quirky and passionate Hawksley Workman about fifteen years ago when I stumbled upon Jealous of Your Cigarette. (be honest: you're intrigued...) That was the only song I really knew, but over the years his name would occasionally surface and I came to view him as a creative and serious musician. Then I became enamoured with Oh You Delicate Heart and sought out more.

Experiencing his music live exceeded all expectations!! It was at times mesmerising and whimsical and intriguing but overall thoroughly entertaining. Everyone in the room seemed to know his music and some even gravitated towards the stage as the show went on to dance and become further entranced. My favourite takeaway from this concert was the discovery of his We'll Make Time, a song performed early in a repertoire of music largely unfamiliar to me, but one that I knew I would retain as a favourite.

While purchasing actual takeaways from the show, we caught up with friends spotted in the crowd, a charismatic couple known thanks to past jobs and schooling. Here were two people who had taken risks earlier in life to further their crafts, each one boldly proposing significant writing projects without any concern about whether their ideas would be accepted. But accepted they were - one of them has made a career out of cranking out episode guides to several very popular television shows. And that's just a side venture!!

The following day, we ventured to Western University and meandered around its bookstore. Along with a few good bookmarks, I happened to pick up Molly Birnbaum's Season to Taste, a descriptive and sensory memoir about embracing life changes and taking control of the next steps. In short, imagine an aspiring chef suddenly losing her sense of smell! You don't have to be a whiz in the kitchen to appreciate how that could derail someone's life path.

Aside from the inspirational message, this book resonated with me for a few reasons:

I was out of routine and still under the spell of an insanely expressive musician who didn't hesitate to put himself out there.

I discovered it while standing within a university, a destination I still wish I had pursued when I was younger.

And I was holding a personal accomplishment in my hand that I, myself, strive to produce, one that I know would be easier for me to realise if I read other people's words more often.

But why this particular book? The truth is I am a sucker for good presentation, and I would be lying if I said I didn't pick it up because of the cover: a simple row of mason jars, each one filled with a unique, unrefined food item. And the really interesting thing is if I had happened to come across the alternate edition, with the cover image of a woman sitting at a kitchen table, it would not have caught my eye at all. Funny how certain designs speak to certain people!

See below for two links that should serve to tickle any curiosity that may have surfaced from reading my impressions. I've described experiences that on the surface aren't related, but combined into one excursion, they continue to inspire and push me to reach some of the most substantial - and ultimately, achievable - goals on my list.

http://hawksleyworkman.com/2010/videos/the-delicious-wolves-videos/
http://mollysmadeleine.blogspot.ca/

At the Scene of the Crime: Bay Street in Toronto

You see before you evidence of a drive-by shooting that occured right out in broad daylight in downtown Toronto. The incident was pre-meditated, thoughtfully orchestrated, and heavily pixelated. Armed with a weapon of mass production, the perpetrator purposefully and masterfully carried out the intended mission with great focus. There was an accomplice but he escaped in a flash with his equipment. No injuries were sustained but there was substantial capture both from this location and various other settings throughout the city. Authorities zoomed in on the culprit by following the light bouncing off the sides of the buildings, clearly exposing the activity. It is estimated the ambush continued for several hours before the shooter was apprehended, subjected to a search, and secured. Although every effort is being made to stop down this operation, it is feared that similar shootings may take place in the future and residents are advised to stay inside and close their shutters.

At Solla Sollew, or rather St. John's Conservation Area on September 8, 2012.

I was sitting on my favourite bench with a notebook just listening to the breeze as it curled around the branches and tickled all the leaves. The air was so comfortable it was without temperature and I was so relaxed I was without concern. I didn't even wonder if there was anything crawling up my back or hovering over my head or preparing to bite at the skin on my ankles.

As I watched my boys scope out the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo.. er, St. John's Pond, I revelled in the joy of watching them become blissfully immersed in their endeavour: to capture a bullfrog. My oldest was stealthily carrying a brand new net - not a meagre dollar store attempt, but a serious metal handled net from Canadian Tire. He meant business. But the frogs weren't at all impressed - they didn't even show up in greeting.

After four methodical, focused treks around the pond combing through every foliage overhang in every nook, he hadn't seen one frog. It must be the time of year, I consoled, as he reluctantly placed the jilted net beside me. Still not ready to return to reality, his attention turned to creatures of the flying variety, which are always faithfully available in nature's lush playground.

An Evening with Brass

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

A good friend of mine not only invited me to check out his brass band's rehearsal, he even said yes when I asked if I could take pictures of the guys as they were playing. Of course the guys weren't so sure about playing for paparazzi at first, but I think they eventually got used to me creeping around on the carpet in pursuit of some good vantage points.

Despite a music stand barricade, I managed to capture natural images of some nice guys spending a few hours doing something they really loved and were fortunate enough to have worked it into their bustling lives. It's good to have a hobby, especially something as intricate as playing a brass instrument, even one that doesn't occupy as much of your time as you wish it could. I  like to think that it's always there, waiting patiently for you, letting you indulge without holding a grudge for the times you didn't play it.

I later switched the bulk of the evening's results to black and white and plan to share them with the band members, just because they might like to have them. I always review a new batch of photos several times because frequently, those that didn't excite me upon first glance will tend to surprise me later on. And I always get a charge out of inspecting reflections.

I discovered this gem in one of the images, hiding in the bell of my friend's French horn. This one got to keep its colour: I adore the dramatic splashing of the blazing red carpet and tungsten lit walls. These bold hues combined with the distortion and the subject positioning reminds me of a post-impressionistic painting... shades of de Toulouse-Lautrec perhaps? And it was all captured just as you see it here, photoshopped only to crop and rotate. A miniature portrait unassumingly nestled within an otherwise well-behaved image.. just waiting to be released!

Here's what it looked like before I pulled it out:

Both sides of Queen Street West, Toronto

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I am looking at a row of stores, teeming with clever merchandising displays, trance inducing sale racks, and the next big deal.... a cavalcade of retail rendezvous and commercial camaraderie. But at which side of the street am I actually looking? What I really see is the building behind me, which is the same view that the people inhabiting the floors above EB Games and clic klak are viewing. Mirrored architectural facades are a bit of a guilty pleasure with me; I always find myself enthralled by very simple concepts such as these, and so indulge. I like to imagine how much more interesting a city's streets would be if every historic building were able to look across the street and see its own reflection, or to muse about how flat and colourless this building might be without its vermillion costume of bricks and arches. I suppose if a storefront were situated across from a derelict, hulking shell of a structure, one would not want to apply reflective panes to its exterior. But here, it works. I also enjoy the way a clean image on one side is delightfully distorted on the other, a watery, stylised version of a predictable arrangement.

This was taken on one of my favourite days of 2010, a late afternoon jaunt full of autumn freshness, intriguing photographic exploration, and a breezy, schedule-free itinerary... it was one of those episodes that found me dangling before everything stimulating, frequently with a unabashedly silly grin on my face. I think as adults, we don't engage in enough frivolous downtime, we don't often allow ourselves an afternoon to guiltlessly unhook our responsibilities and toss them into the trunk with the other incidentals as we purposely seek out a locale that inspires us... or simply causes us to grin incessantly. Of course length of exposure and quality of human accompaniment affect the effectiveness of such an escape, both of which satisfied my needs quite nicely on the day in question!

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!

CN and Me: A Tale of Two (?) Reflections

                                                                                                                                          © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I couldn't resist posting this untouched image of four different views of downtown Toronto. For tourists who journey to our vast country, either from their own exotic country or from a different corner of the same vast country) the CN Tower is a coveted view that simply must be securely packaged up inside their travelling camera. I suppose, however, that for those tourists who have become locals (like me) who choose to vigorously and enthusastically retain their tourist-like status of awe in their day to day excusions (like me!), the goal exceeds that of simply acquiring its likeness. We strive instead to compose an image of individuality, something that's a little different from the predictable postcard, something that allows one to examine the mighty tower from a different angle, or capturing something that perhaps makes one wonder where in the city that particular perspective would be viewable.... so how about it... any guesses??

John Hancock Building - Boston, MA

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

Upon first view of the impossibly flawless Hancock building in downtown Boston, I knew I had to get closer to it... significantly closer! I approached it slowly, gazing upwards of course, apparently unaware of the possibility that I could bump into someone by proceeding forward in this manner! Mesmerised by its geometrically perfect design, I just couldn't pull myself away from it. Its lines are obviously structurally parallel but due to the sheer height of the building, they display a teasing notion of convergence. And so aesthetically pleasing! I can't even keep the few windows in my house clean for any length of time! Seeing this marvel of squeegeed excellence stirred in me both a satisfying sigh and a jealous pang.

I was capturing a few shots as I was moving closer, but it wasn't until I was virtually pressed against its sleek, polished mirrors that I found the viewpoint that resulted in sheer elation.

Macy's flagship store on 34th Street in New York City was the starting and finishing point of a whirlwind bus trip that included some shopping, but for me, the most dynamic urban photographic carnival I've seen thus far! We jammed a lot of sightseeing into the 12 hours we were there, but one of my favourite photos is this one of some of Macy's stylish mannequins. I loved the way their reflection was visible on a seemingly non-reflective surface: the smooth brown exterior of the massive store, made of a material which I guessed was granite. By this point, everyone was exhausted from the day's excitement and had assembled in front of the store waiting, languishing, for our bus to arrive to bring us back to reality, and to let us succumb to our fatigue. I had finally put my camera back into my bag, finally deciding to call it a night. Then I saw these girls and I was smitten!

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved