Posts in category "Daily Life"

Multitasking Emotions

Left screen, I’m going over the bachelor party footage. We’re recovering from a night of drinking over bacon and eggs in a high-corner wide-angle shot. Right screen, I’m talking to Aaron on Messenger.

Aaron: bro, you know I love you
Aaron: like for real
Aaron: no shit
Jeff: thanks man, i love you too
Aaron: no ‘you’re my bro’ shit
Aaron: the real deal

“No ‘You’re my bro’ shit”, he says. Bro. The word we sometimes use to remind each other that we’re family. Nothing emasculates some like the “l” word, but we’re passed that.

“you know I love you”. He was first to say it this time, and it catalyzes the tears down my face.

The video’s still playing. In it we’re ebullient, fraternizing, and I can’t help but laugh along too.

I remember another time, about three years ago, when I broke down after dealing with my mom and her incorrigible ways. I rolled a joint and smoked it as soon as I got off the phone. As the weed went to my brain, my mood evened out. I was numb to the pain but the tears didn’t stop, like a physical reflex.

What a strange feeling it was to be crying and laughing or stoned at the same time.

Life is the same way. It’s never black and white, and there’s no absolute right or wrong. There are grey areas, points of passion between pleasure and pain.

Even crying from joy is an enigmatic microcosm of such an idea. I remember doing so only one other time, at the end of grade 7, during the final auditions for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Out of 10 schools, we were competing to spend the summer singing on stage with Donny Osmond. When they announced the name of our school we jumped out of our seats in cheer, but I could feel my face grimace from the emotion, tears filling up my eyes. It’s as if you’re overtaken by sadness that you’ll never feel as happy again.

Like yin and yang, one doesn’t exist without the other, and often they exist at once.

Wedding Shot Scouting

I offered to help Pat and Jen scout out some locations for the wedding photos. They’re looking for the less-conventional urban look, which I think is a great change from the clichéd tree and river shots that have been done to death. Since it’s mostly architectural, emphasis is placed on structures, textures, and colours. We spent a couple hours downtown, discovering areas of Ottawa that we’ve never found before (and Pat’s lived here all his life).

This was probably one of the most productive photo sessions I’ve ever had. I got a bunch of great shots, but there are too many to put into one entry here.

Weekends with Pat (and Jen)

Thumbnail: Marinating pork and lamb chops

Thumbnail: Pork and lamb chops, Vietnamese style

A sense of hedonism has the better of me lately.

I remember feeling this way once. It was about five years ago, soon after I lost my grandmother and job in the same week. I’ve come to understand that such is a passing phase, and that I should simply enjoy such guilt-free things while it lasts.

As a result, I’ve been selfishly monopolizing Pat these last few weekends.

An exorbitant amount of pleasure comes from the motley assortment of foods he prepares.

A friend who cooks as a hobby is up there with the other friends with similar sorts of practical, esoteric knowledge: the lawyer friend, the car mechanic friend, the computer geek friend (so I’m told).

Over the course of a few summers he perfected his grilling technique, and has now moved onto a mastery of cold salads. We have an agreement when it comes to practicing his cooking skills, where he gets a record of his consumable accomplishments, and in return I get a memorable meal and some great photos. He often mentions that he’ll have to join forces with Karen, an accomplished baker, to provide the desserts. Baking ability is something that’s admittedly eluded him, as he focuses on entrées.

The other, less tangible yet truly sublime form of pleasure comes from our conversations. Pat’s a person who listens and contributes to a topic in equal measure. Someone who doesn’t just wait for his turn to speak. As a result, I’m comfortable opening up to him, something that I shy away from with most other people.

Lately though, it’s clarity that I’ve been looking for. Too often, I over-analyze my life, and it’s no secret that my emotions affect me more than I’d like.

When I need to sort out my life, Pat’s the person I turn to. I don’t seek guidance or council from him, only perspective.

In the end, nothing clarifies and refreshes like a couple mugs of tea and some good conversation.

I’ve been hogging Pat these last few weekends, stealing him from the rest of his friends and family, but I don’t care.

Hedonism is the new rule, and I’m giving in with caprice.

First Photo Contest Win

Not the grand prize, but I won the portrait category for my pictures of Chaos from Canada Day ’06, and Gerry from my Gerry Project.

Our judges had their hands full. With close to 100 entries, and photos of everything from penguins to crocodiles to war veterans and other UCC luminaries, it wasn’t an easy decision to compare these apples and oranges. Ultimately, the judges decided that technique and content counted in equal measure.

To create as fair a judging process as possible, names, grade, and graduation years were left off the photos, and replaced by a number. That way, current students and Old Boys all had an equal shot. (To ensure no judge was swayed by the opinion of another, each wrote down his or her favourite number, with no prior discussion.)

It was a blind judging, and as a result, my two photos tied with each other for first place without the judges knowing that they were both from one person. Not bad for the first photography contest I entered.

Seeing my pictures in print is great, but winning isn’t the important part.

The most satisfaction comes from knowing that I could step out of my comfort zone to call a stranger and take pictures of him, which was the main goal of the Gerry Project.

Being recognized for the pictures was a nice little bonus.

New Hampshire: Conclusion

Thumbnail: Live free or die license plate

What an overwhelming experience.

There was barely any time to explore; we took one walk and pretty much stayed within a 10km radius. Too much reading, testing, and meeting to do anything else. It felt like the time went flying by, yet dragged on, the longer I was from home.

There’s something about being away. Being isolated from your routine and everything that’s familiar. It’s a different set of stimuli.

As an introvert, you fall back on memories and past experiences, and it drives reflection and re-evaluation.

I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t affect me. I learned more about myself in the last two weeks than I did in the last year, and I’ll be writing about it for weeks, if not months.

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