365: Red; February 26, Totally out of hand and dirty

This is my desk. It's dirty, sticky with leftover food because I've been eating three meals a day at this desk, and covered with coffee cup rings - same reason. My hips are killing me from sitting so many hours on a hard chair, and I haven't been outside in days, although the polar vortex is back and it's bloody cold, so I'm not that disappointed... Except for yoga (hot yoga... what a joy on a freezing day), this is my vista. Disaster. Busy, busy six weeks. #killingoffsomedebt

365: Red; February 25, Rebels and others

I grew up "knowing" (because certain adults in my life told me all the time) I was a rebel. I also grew up confused, because I knew lots of rebels - kids who smoked and drank and cut classes, kids who ran away, kids who set stuff on fire, kids who were gay in the mid 1970s, when that was next to a death sentence.

I was a rebel because I didn't necessarily toe the party line - meaning the narrow definition of right and wrong and politics held by those certain adults, and I was friends with those gay kids. I don't think I really knew what gay meant but I know I didn't care either.

I did so envy those real rebels, the kids who dared to pull the fire alarm and run like hell after. I wanted to be that kind of rebel. Instead, I just wrote essays about Lady MacBeth, who was caught up in events she had no control over but was maligned for it anyway.

365: Red; February 24, Chin Chin

I like to think I don't have a lot of bad habits, but I do, just maybe fewer than some people, but lots more than some others.

I like a good book and one stiff-ish drink at night, in bed. It's pretty much my favourite part of the day, when I can get under the sheets, nestle in, crack open my book and get away from the day. Cinzano. Good.

365: Red; February 23, Friend

This is Prija. She was at the party I shot last night. She weighs about two pounds. It wasn't my business but I was afraid she was going to be stepped on, being so small. She was fine though. Super cute. She's like a small cat, except for the bark.

365: Red; February 22, Desire

I'm shooting a party tonight for acquaintances. I've shot for them before and I know it will be a great time - and that these are the exact right choice of shoes for this party... for guests... who'll be able to sit down... not for the photographer. But how cute are these?
#shoefettish #justlikeallgirls

365: Red; February 21: Placeholder

I'm posting this shot, which I made last year, because this is on my mind, "this" being how to grow a strong and healthy family.

365: Red; February 20, Televised Ranting

About three years ago, a friend of the family got a gig as the host of a TV show produced by the local cable channel. It's a civic affairs type program about issues that affect the city and it's residents. To spice it up, the producers added a segment called the Rant Pack.

Our famous friend then called me saying they needed someone with strong opinions to join the Rant Pack. Ok. I'm in. There are five of us; two women and four men. It gets pretty lively sometimes. Good fun. We've been at it for three seasons now. I think we have a viewership but, as the station's owner is a fundamentalist, we're not allowed to talk about anything too controversial, which is unfortunate because man, we sure could.

365: Red; February 19, Honey

This is mead. More specifically, this is spiced honey wine. My eldest daughter and I discovered this stuff about four years ago at an annual wine tasting thing that happens in our city. It is divine. With a roast chicken dinner, it is even diviner.

It's not for sale in our province, however, so when I heard two of our good friends were in Kelowna, where it is produced, I availed myself of social media of the Facebook variety and made a public plea for our friends to please bring us some back.

The fun part is our friends happened to arrive at this meadery, Meadow Vista Honey Wines the very day they opened the doors of their new location and our friends made the first purchase in that location. So that was a good deed done.

Mead is one of the most ancient produced liquids in the world, along with beer. Just on the basis of having been drunk for many, many centuries, it has to be good.

365: Red; February 18, Friends and trust

I occasionally have a day or two when things don't go as planed or work out as well as they could. This week, due to a late winter cold and being all stuffed up and not sleeping as well as usual, I was late for an appointment, which made a stranger upset and also possibly bothered my client, for whom I do a lot of work. I tend to let what was in the end a pretty minor issue that had zero long-term effect, bring me down and make me question my existence...

So, today while I was moping about feeling like so much a screw up, a close friend called. This friend is part of a couple who we've known for a very long time - our best friends. Today our friend rang me and said he needed to talk and that he didn't really have anyone else he could talk to.

The short story is there has been a tragic, unexpected death in his family and he was struggling and just needed to work it around a bit.

None of this is about me except that on a day I was feeling fairly sub-human, someone needed me for a bit and someone's actually serious issues made me put my stuff in perspective.

We talked and drank tea - tea being a great cure-all - for a couple hours and then went out for Mexican.

365: Red; February 17, Random Stuff in Trees

Finding stuff like this in trees - stuff that is random and really has no business being in a tree just makes me happy in a really stupid, puppy-happy way. I like it so much that some person decided to put a little piece of joy up in a tree that is currently without its natural decoration.

I also really like to find shoes that have been tied together by their laces and chucked up over the telephone wires; it's a visual representation of "screw you, conventionalism."

Suits me fine.

365: Red; February 16, Canadian Trees

Random Canadianism in trees... it just made me giggle. hangin' there like nobody's business, with the fermented crab apples.

365: Red; February 15, Saving the world is going to be really tough, 'cause yo mamma don't work here...

Seriously. If people can't manage to get their empty Timmy Ho's into a bin, how the heck are we going to clean up the planet? People talk and talk and talk, but really, I'm not sure if they really know what they're talking about or if they really give a damn.

365: Red; February 14, Being a groupie for once

Four years ago, I cancelled my cable. Partly because it was expensive and partly because I can't countenance paying to have advertising pushed at me, but mostly because I cannot tolerate the idea that any of my dollars go to towards properties like the exploitive Toddlers and Tiaras (which springs from the southern US bible belt and is based on the very, very early sexualisation of little girls) and Honey Boo Boo (also from the southern US and capitalises on that vast swath of uneducated, also-bible-belters).

But I really like good music. My spouse still has cable in the studio so he can watch real-time sports and the news. My one guilty pleasure where it comes to reality TV is the Voice (NBC), which is called a "blind" audition show. It's only blind at the very last stage - the televised portion; the competitors go though lots of auditions before they get to the program, but still. (If you want to have a listen, just click)

This gal, Cassadee Pope was a competitor a couple seasons ago. It was clear from the get-go she was a contender. She was in my city this week, on a tour for which she is opening for another musician. She's really good. I have never gone to a mall to see a musician before. It was worth it. If the second-runner-up, Terry McDermott, ever comes to town, I'll be going to wherever he is too.

365: Red; February 13, Found; Vivian Maier

From the plus-15 spanning 1st St SW, looking south. YYC

Went to an extraordinary film tonight.

In 2007, John Maloof, a realtor and garage sale/auction aficionado, bid on a large box of negatives. He was looking for historical photographs to illustrate a project. He bought the lot for some $350.

He didn't find what he was looking for in those negatives. What he did discover was the work of north America's most significant street photographer. Ever. Except this photographer, Vivian Maier, was utterly undiscovered.

Maloof went looking for anything else he could lay hands on and found many, many boxes of negatives. And then he found many boxes of undeveloped colour film and then boxes of undeveloped black and white film. The sum of it all is the greatest archive of American photographic history that exists.

He also found the dark side of this woman in the boxes and boxes of newspaper articles she kept.

At present, Maloof has a lab in New York City scanning the negatives, eight hours a day, five days a week, and this has been going on for more than two years. Maloof is developing some of the film himself and having much of it done, also full-time, at another NYC lab. The estimates are in the area of 72,000 photographs, not including 8mm films, recordings, cassettes....

Maier's work spans more than four decades, and more than 10 countries. Maier died only weeks prior to Maloof stumbling on her work.

I don't remember exactly when I came upon Vivian Maier, but that meeting was significant. Her style is so compelling and perfect. There are wonderful street photographers in the world, whose works I love, but Maier ...

John Maloof's film, Finding Vivian Maier, was screened tonight as part of the Exposure Festival. It is surprising, compelling, disturbing, brilliant and sad. It is a must-see.

365: Red; February 12, A village of photographers, perhaps...

This city is now 12 days into the 10th year of Exposure Photography Festival, which takes place here and in the two towns west of us in the mountains. As such, the likes of me could be out mingling every night and to several events. My colleague, who I share an exhibition with every year, knows everything going and often calls at the last second - or with an hours notice, like tonight. I had been stuck in traffic for three hours - really! - so was ready for a serious change of pace and possibly something that would sooth my rapidly-becoming-savage breast.

Despite this being a huge city, exhibition space is at a premium, so anywhere with walls (preferably white) and willingness becomes gallery space. The Village Brewery is no exception, and it's a lovely place to hang art. And it comes with beer. So a two-fer!

What's nice about these gatherings of regular folks is there is the not-occasional important-to-artists person mingling. I found out tonight there's a real and lovely man behind the Webster Gallery, and this lovely man said lovely things about my work, which he saw on a drying table at the printers. Is it too late to be discovered for reals?

365: Red; February 11, Repurpose

Tonight, whist folding laundry, I realised, in addition to not enjoying the task, I was folding items I have way, way too many of. Like really, how many towels does a kinda single person need (my adult children have, wash and fold their own stuff)? How many towels that are more than 20 years old does any person need?

I also realised I have loads and loads of sheets for beds we no longer own, some tops and bottoms that don't match and some sets that are brown. Yuck. I don't know where those even came from.

In our city, there is a drop-in centre, which, from the outside looks palatial. I know, for some of the residents and people who use the facility, it is palatial - much more so than a bed under the bridge when it's -20. I know they have a really great industrial laundry there, and these towels, which I don't need and which are in good shape and will benefit greatly from said industrial washing, will be appreciated, as will the sheets. matched or not.

I spend a day, once a year at the Drop-In Centre - the DI, as it's called - volunteering my time shooting for a really brilliant event called Help Portrait - the YYC version of it. This year, I volunteered my time, and. inadvertently, my winter boots.  I'm sure whoever has them needed them badly and I'm pretty sure same goes for my towels and sheets.

365: Red; February 10, Olympic Flame

Super crappy resolution, I know...

The Olympics are on in Russia. To commemorate, the Calgary Tower or the Husky Tower (if you're an older GenXer like I am), is lit up every night. Yes, folks, there is fire on top of that tower thanks to a huge cauldron-like structure and whatever fuel they use - which I assume must be safe enough; the tower is lit up a few times a year for various things, sometimes when someone important dies. I'm enough of a sentimentalist to like it when it happens. It's one of those unifying things that happens in cities. City hall has decided to fly the rainbow flag rather than the Olympic flag, which the city has the right to fly, as this city has also hosted the Winter Olympics. I get the reason for the choice - Russia is backward where it concerns people who happen, in addition to being humans, to also be gay - but I wish both flags could have flown. Might have been a stronger message. But our mayor is awesome anyway.

365: Red; February 9, Family Dinner

We have managed to install a family tradition of dinner most Sunday nights and to invite whichever "orphans" might be about.

Licking the bowl and sharing that little joy is encouraged.

Much wine is had, many stories are told, and in this case a love affair commenced, at our table.

One of this evening's participants is a second-round pick for the Mars One project.  It's 10 years off but the prospect of a loved friend literally departing earth for another planet is a little beyond comprehension. I have mixed feelings but as a life-long Ray Bradbury fan, and someone who thinks The Martian Chronicles (read it here) is a prophetic book, the idea someone we know might actually be one of the first to populate Mars (again...?) is pretty romantic.

365: Red; February 8, Appropriate Footwear

I have a gallery exhibition on at the moment. As I recently learned, red shoes are de rigeur for such things, so, as I have this pair, which I bought in the shop above the gallery where I'm exhibiting. They were the exact right choice.

Our grand opening was a huge success. We couldn't count, because the gallery was packed but we know we had at least 150 people, which I"m sure is WAY over the fire code capacity for the space, but who cares!? It was awesome.

We're part of The Banff Calgary Photography Festival, which is in its 10th year this year. This is our second year of five. Last year we exhibited our work from London. This year is New York. No clue where the show for next year will be shot but New Orleans, Nashville, Geneva and Barcelona are on the list.

We is me and Chris Tait (www.christait.ca).  More here: Click

365: Red; February 6, Stargate Hallway

My spouse has a studio in a condo complex down the road from the house. We often head down there to watch movies on the big-screen TV there and take advantage of a space we always have to ourselves - given the adult kids with jobs and school and their need for some quiet time and space also. This hallway fascinates me for it's uniformity, which is to say what should be uniformity: straight walls, uniform placement of lights, square aspect... except the hallway has a "wow" in it. It's so weird. 

365: Red; February 5, Missing Zombie

My adult kids who still live at home have become beer connoisseurs, so it isn't rare I'll find a bottle of some weird brew nestled in with the variety of sauces and condiments in the fridge. The other night, as I was making pot stickers, and grabbed the necessary thing - Sriracha - I also discovered a bottle of Zombie something-or-other beer. Owing to my phone camera crashing three times in a row, and the owner of said bottle of beer coming home from work very late, very tired and having said beer in her sights, the bottle disappeared from this very spot, just as my phone camera decided to function. Sometimes, technology blows. 

For the record, Sriracha has become a cultural phenomenon in the last few years. Recently, in the California town where it is produced, there was a fight, of sorts, between the townsfolk and the factory due to the production methods making for a VERY stinky six months. There were rumours the factory would be permanently shut down, which caused a massive run on the sauce, which made it impossible to find. Horrors! My spouse bought two of the large size bottles, hoping this would hold us over for a few months until this issue is resolved. 

365: Red; February 4, Busy Food...

I often feel a little panicky over the winter holiday, when work slows down. I'm good at my job, but I don't take it for granted that people change up their service providers from time to time. One has to be really excellent at the work, and also be dependable and reliable.

So when things slow to a halt over the holiday, yeah...

But then things take off again and before I'm really prepared - and in the middle of a really cold couple weeks - I'm scrambling to keep up.

This is my version of meals on wheels: chocolate and a bowl of yoghurt and nuts, which I ate at stoplights on the way to two back to back jobs.

365: Red; February 2, Abstract

Sometimes, you have to pull it off auto - let go a bit of control, zoom out a bit and see what things look like from another perspective. Same with life: sometimes, one must release the reins, pull the camera back in order to see a larger picture, and then re-analyse the scene.

Things usually look a whole lot different when you're not swirling about in the vortex with them.

365: Red; February 1; Old, New, Show

We just installed our gallery exhibition, in the basement of this brick building.

Year two of our five-year project, Tripping the Streets Fantastic.

Installing the show was much less stressful this time around; we know the space and the people who manage it - they're so supportive and are as glad to have us back as we are to be in their space.

The "running around naked in public" aspect of exhibiting one's work never disappears, however.

365: Red; January 31, Music Maker

We have a wonderful friend, who has been a musician all her life, and is the child of musicians. She's never known another life except for a stint at uni and a nearly complete degree.

In this country, which borders another HUGE country, with an over-powering culture, music is a tough business. We don't necessarily honour our musicians until they make it somewhere else - usually that much larger country. It can be a long, arduous trajectory to make money at all, and to carve out a place in the industry here.

Our friend has a Juno under her belt and several amazing albums. We've watched in amazement as she tours all over the world for months at a time.

I travelled with her twice, and only for three days and five days at a time, and I was exhausted. I don't know how she does it, but she does and she does it very well.

Check her  out here: www.caraluft.com and check out her latest CD, Darlingford, on iTunes