Category Archives: travel

Pearl Lagoon, Nicaragua

1549247_10100290642702716_2937258979415013022_n

10641064_10100290623645906_6439271072417562564_n

10405642_10100290642473176_1653220936587655740_n

10685506_10100290642523076_3232289299564250986_n

10616229_10100290625552086_5065461034364761663_n

10431495_10100290625636916_5361970924710803247_n

10511248_10100290625871446_1257551880990614613_n

10710920_10100290625786616_5209216359151289541_n

10446462_10100290643086946_6945882676510947105_n

10509549_10100290643126866_6411392837495373478_n

1924555_10100290642962196_6812710301548136934_n

10712840_10100290643111896_3492238699620966591_n

10675776_10100290642737646_3918885197001616099_n

10690254_10100290623136926_2218360320784539086_n

Advertisements
Tagged , , , ,

Manchester

 

CNV00006

CNV00008

CNV00012

CNV00013

CNV00014CNV00004CNV00005

CNV00015

CNV00017

CNV00018

CNV00020

CNV00023

CNV00029

CNV00030

CNV00038CNV00032

0002_###-0010032_###

0003_###

0005_###

0007_###-001

0008_###-001

0014_###

0015_###-001

0019_###

0021_###

 

Pictures taken in Manchester, Ancoats neighbourhood and Saddleworth Moors, taken with Canon AE-1 and expired film,

 

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Liverpool

 

0002_###

0003_###-001

 

0005_###-0010004_###-001

0006_###

0008_###

0009_###

0011_###

0012_###

0013_###-001

0016_###-001

0018_###-001

0020_###-0010001_###

0022_###

0024_###

0027_###

0010_###-001

Mucking about with Canon AE-1 and expired film…still working on it 🙂

Tagged , , , , ,

Traveling Encounters

There was a point in my travels, I think it was in Portugual, when I picked up a sketchbook. At first I drew whatever images came into my mind, usually inspired from what I saw around me. Then I started to documenting little imprints of the people I met, snip bits of conversation that left an impression on me.

029

A Russian woman I shared a hostel room with in Granada, Spain. She was over on a seminar, she was a language teacher if I remember correctly. I told her that I planned on visiting Russia, and she eagerly offered to show me around when I got there, but making it clear that she was not inviting me to stay at her place. She had an abrupt manner about her, maybe it was the language barrier or the eastern European way, but without there being any lead up in our conversation she began telling me about how life is in Russia, and in case I was under any illusion, “life isn’t beautiful.”

030While in Paris I found a family to couchsurf with you were on the outskirts of the city. I was the girl’s first couchsurfer, she was about 18 or 19, and her English wasn’t very good, and instead of using say a phone when we came at an impasse with a word, she would consult a massive tome of an English-French dictionary. Therefore, I spent most of the time talking to her parents, actually her father, who’s English was the best. I learned that discussing travel plans was the safest topic after a few of our discussions about politics and other world affairs led to butting heads.

031I met this man while eating in a Moroccan restaurant in the Belleville neighborhood in Paris. I had some bread left over on my plant and he inquired as to whether I was going to finish it, I informed him I was. We started talking and he offered to show me around the arsty parts of the area. He was from Armenia, if I remember correctly and now lived in Paris with his partner. He was an artist, his work was predominantly text based, notebooks filled with scrawled words and symbols, he also dabbled in found art, such as a plastic hand making a peace sign, with a potato peeler between the fingers, he had displayed this in a gallery.

032American tourists waiting in line for the catacombs in Paris, discussing “stereotypical American tourists”….

009

I arrived in Porto, Portugual, unbeknownst to me, on St. John’s Day. This festival is celebrated in different ways across the world, it usually involves jumping over a fire. In Porto, it starts off during the day, with everyone out on the streets grilling sardines and vegetables. You’re walking down these narrow steps, through the town, weaving through tables precariously set up on ledges, billows of smoke filling the air with the smell of charcoaled fish, it’s like the whole city is partaking in one big family meal. In the evening the streets are intensely packed as everyone heads to the river to catch the fireworks. The hammers also emerge, the plastic hammers that you’d win at the carnival, the ones that toddler’s harass their pets with. And for no explicable reason, people are bopping each other on the head with these hammers. Everywhere you go, bop, bop, bop, actually, squeak, squeak, squeak, as these hammers aren’t of the silent variety. There were also the more traditional head boppers of garlic flowers, you were well advised to avoid this as they gave off a pugnent smell. After the initial perplexity and annoyance (I was sure I was becoming a target because of my mop of curly hair), I joined in the bopping festivities  myself, although I did have to be restrained when I attempted to dispel a fight with some ‘comic relief.’

033

The hostel I stayed in Porto, Portugaul, was owned by two brothers. It was in this old factory I believe, with high ceiling and big windows, a beautiful building, as many of the buildings in Porto are. The elder brother was friendly and chatty, he could go on at length about the history of the city, the politics of the country, whereas the younger brother came off as the the partier type. The younger one had a tick and at first it was hard to not get distracted by it and feel pity at his condition, but after talking with him for a little while it began to develop a rhythm to his speech. He was quite small, covered in tattoos and with a pony tail. He took us out a few nights to some concerts and we got to talking about life, sharing about his daughter and ex-wife.

041Flamenco dancer, Grananda, Spain

039Flamenco Singer, Granada, Spain

025Women in grocery store in Spain

024Man sitting in a park bench in Spain

026Cafe in Spain

A group of young girls i was sitting beside at the street park. I gathered they were journalism students, as they were discussing the best way to approach the skater's and what kind of questions to ask (not to be judgemental, but they could have done with a bit of research beforehand). After drawing straws about

I was sitting beside a group of young girls at the skate park in Barcelona (MACBA). I gathered they were journalism students, as they were discussing the best way to approach the skater’s and what kind of questions to ask (not to be judge, but they could have done with a bit of research beforehand). After drawing straws about who would go, a few minutes later the girl returned a little bewildered by the lack of enthusiasm on her subjects part, at least she was able to apply the age old journalistic technique, making something out of nothing.

This was landlord in Barcelona. He spoke in an alien tongue. He had a message he wanted to share and a community he wanted to create of like minded people. He had very expressive eyes, sometimes he would just look at you, and you would begin to feel uncomfortable because he was looking into you,  died a few months after I left of heart failure.

Javi was my landlord during my two month stay in Barcelona. It wasn’t always easy to follow what he said, he called it his alien tongue. He had a message he wanted to share and a community he wanted to create of like minded people. He had such expressive eyes, sometimes he would just look into your eyes and you had to look away, not just because it was uncomfortable, but it was as if he was seeing things in you that you were trying to hide, other times his eyes had a deep sadness, his eyebrow’s would raise in the middle, almost cartoon like, as he’d talk about rejection and killing the ego, and when he was in high spirits he had a simple giddy humour, jumping around, excitable as a child. There were times where I would patiently sit with him, trying to understand, decipher his code, hug him and feel his love. Other times I had to get away, I couldn’t listen anymore, he was beyond help and was bringing me down too. He had a perception of things that were sometimes so right, that it could be hard to hear. Javi died a few months after I left of heart failure.

Miscellaneous

001019

013

028

008

022

040

014 012

The Artist

010

Loose Change

023

021

020

I'm sure you know people like this...

017

016

015

038

027

035

034

Tagged , , , , , ,