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published photographer

Not really a huge deal but Schmap Guides, decided to publish a photograph of I took of Pioneer Plaza in Dallas for their map guide. When I am a paid published photographer, then that would be something to sneeze at.

Pack Rat Central- aka Rideau Antiques in Ontario

children of the corn

children of the corn, originally uploaded by jill y.

rural Ontario wildlife

rural Ontario wildlife, originally uploaded by jill y.

A snap with a little extra snap.

Hi,

I am writing to let you know that one of your photos has
been short-listed for inclusion in the third edition of our
Schmap Dallas Guide, to be published at the end of this month.

While we offer no payment for publication, many
photographers are pleased to submit their photos, as Schmap
Guides give their work recognition and wide exposure, and
are free of charge to readers. Photos are published at a
maximum width of 150 pixels, are clearly attributed, and
link to high-resolution originals at Flickr.

Best regards,

Luke Ritchie,
Managing Editor, Schmap Guides


Well, what ya know. Here's the pic being considered..

the thing to do

When you're 4000 miles from home, it's imperative that you buy a chair.

windows

I'm surprised that it didn't spread like a delicate plague.

Those little black spots of mold that took hold underneath the girly floral patterned wallpaper. They clustered there overtime growing larger and darker and more ominous. Pretty underneath the faded blue rose florals. Ominous where the plastered paper peeled back on itself. It didn't leave the room. The little dolls with the wobbly eyes and tattered handmade dresses, dusty despite all the water jugs didn't leave either.

I'm surprised at at that.

Surprised that the stories of rooms filled to the brim, the tiny but deliberate carved and carpeted paths have only mustered a shushed whisper maybe over coffee at the local Tim Horton's. Of a graveyard for antiques, had they once been living would have filled a city. Now, just gathered in little groups of friends, waiting. Something inside the walls of the yard and brittle slatted house, that keeps the secrets from leaving. It's as if a tiny wind blows from all sides, gently keeping all those possessions inside the gate and possibly bringing more with them.

Bringing another pile of window frames, another row of bottles. Stack up the pots. We'll fill them with food one day. Chairs piled so thick it was like walking into a wooden cobweb. A giant spider sitting in the corner waiting for it's next meal is just an old dresser with the drawers open like giant hands. The gentle prairie wind blows. Bringing with it the sorrows and losses from the times of war. From the times when it was painful to loose something so much that you held on tight to it all. Just put it over there. We'll make use of it one day. Someone will need it.

The wind with its secrets keeps all the dolls from speaking. They sit staring at the little tiny black spots forming, envying the books and magazines carefully in bags.



windows, originally uploaded by onecreativesource.

bent out of shape

He takes regular everyday things and with a few tools, a bit of time, and a wryly sense of humour, turns them into something completely different. These were early favorites but there are so many more so you should go look-see.

T to the O

I don't know about this town.

Then again, what I have seen of it has been from a passenger side window or a hotel room. Kind of reminds me the big apple though.

Lots of smog.
Lot's of people.
Cool subway signs and entrances that disappear off the surface of the sidewalk.
Lots of people in cars with lots of hands on horns.
Lots of garbage piled up on street curbs.
Those quaint little kooky shops and funky neighborhoods grazing under the shadows of high rise office buildings.

Rumour has it, this weekend I'll be going to visit a farmhouse with Catherine that's neighbours with an apple orchard and is "suffering" from a near by vintage shop infestation. I'll be going with my a pocket full of "pesticide" and a camera.

jack drives away after climbing the beanstalk

jack drives away after climbing the beanstalk, originally uploaded by jill y.

IMG_3492 1.jpg, originally uploaded by jakedobkin.

misadventure

April 3, 2007 Journal entry

"It's going to be one brutal 14 hr trip to Paris. I feel like I'm in a 3rd or 4th world. Back of the bus, back pack with me. Dodgey Moroccans or slimy Czech men all around. Sweaty and the air heavy with cheap cologne. Sketchy. And there's a baby right behind my seat. At least the seat next to me is free. Paris- here I come."

When the bus started to pull away from the curb, that's when I realized I was actually on a bus headed for Romania.

beauty is in the details

beauty in the details, originally uploaded by jill y.

It's hard to make out the date on this photo but it's Friday, June 18, 2004. I was sitting out front at Joe's Cafe on Commercial Drive. I've always fancied their lattes and the effort they put into layering the coffee and milk. So esthetically pleasing, so worth photographing. I noticed this clever headline and snapped the shot.

What makes this such a memorable shot for me is the remembering the person who sat down beside me. We had met a week a so ago though mutual friends and recognized him. I remember feeling slightly put off by the constant phone calls he was making on his cell. Put off because I was waiting for the opening to say hello.

Oh brother, I remember thinking. Screw him. I was trying to not be so interested in guys. They'd brought me a bunch of trouble in the recent past and I was a bit fed up. I almost left but the opportunity came and I said hello. We chatted, I think we exchanged numbers, and I called them a week or so later. I remember feeling none to impressed but it was that phase where I was pretty much thinking 'fuck him' to any guy who crossed my path- my path of "I don't want or need you". But then this guy said something about having a degree in Art History and liking photography and suddenly there was something, something maybe in common.

Something that would open me up to the beauty in his details.

He never reads this blog because he says he hears all about the things I post anyway. Maybe I'll tell him about this and maybe I won't.

Happy 3rd year anniversary Michael. Thanks for all little details that are just between you and me.

defiantly religious

defiantly religious, originally uploaded by jill y.

Kids sure have changed since the last time I was in Alberta. You can look at the rest of my photos and see the proof that a pail of Borscht is still only $19,

Who is this man?

??, originally uploaded by revertebrate.

Somewhere out there, someone knows this creature who 's drum beats loudly for him.

Do tell, readers, do tell....

pumphouse

le house de pump, originally uploaded by jill y.

I collect photos of this little house. It's up the road from "the farm". When I was little, when we would drive by it, I hoped one day it would be mine. Like a little cottage. Of course it is was too small. But then again, so was I.

I went there today. I had a an hour with my mother's car. I always cautiously approach, thinking a skunk will run out from underneath or there will be a pack of rabid dogs waiting inside. Or I hope to find a hidden treasure. All I ever find is a couple of birds, a rusted bundle of barbedwire and a couple of dirty cans.

And another picture to the collection.

Home tomorrow morning, or rather back to Vancouver and straight back to work from the airport.

lucky me

Today I am off to the "undisputed home of Canada’s largest six-day rodeo". Immediately, I wonder where is the home of the largest 7 day rodeo? Would that be Calgary? Carstairs? How about the little town of Rosebud, Alberta?

No, I'm off to Ponoka and at least one full day of "rodeo action with the best two and four-legged rodeo athletes in the world".

side note: Actually Rosebud is famous for Alberta's only opera house and not much else. A bunch of year's ago when I lived in Calgary, my boyfriend and I would get out the map and drive to all sorts of obscure prairie Alberta towns. One day we found Rosebud and obviously because of it's quaint name, we had to go. Thinking we would find treasure and hidden gems in Mom and Pop antique stores, sit on worn wooden stools in sunny corner pop shops and stroll down beaten wooden walkways, we hit the road. Instead, we found a sleepy hamlet of dirt bikes and Ford pick-up trucks. Kid size mountain bikes leaning up against white vinyl siding houses, and a worn baseball field. The closest we came to a soda pop shop was the local post office-slash-food store-slash-dentist office. And the opera house.

Some other time, I'll tell you about the time I went to the "world famous" Okotoks roadside hootenanny.