However, I know me. I like visiting. I like driving in and throwing my stuff around and making mad plans to fill every spare second, then moving on. I can only survive so long with a million other people. I need my land. I need my trees. I need my space.
I splurge on a coffee I cannot afford, and I smile. The sun is shining. The mountains are outside the window. I write poetry. I am loved. All is well.
I watched the skyline of Toronto being bathed in the golden light of sunset and laughed, frustrated. The skyline blocked out all that natural light from hitting us – so how do the Toronto photographers do this?
It was one of the most incredible and humbling moments of my life, I even took a moment to just stand there and take it all in.
As a child, I remember spending most of nights with my friends and family at the old wooden arbour located in the centre of town. We would run around, playing hide and seek or sit and watch the talent show or participate in the drum dance.
A little bit of Indigenous magic.
And I think it was from the stories and community that this session carried. Nothing I do comes without stories.
Tempted by the sky, they raced towards her, electricity filling the air, until they met... Storm chasing on Highway 16, BC.
I’ve got a history with my dad. Last year he had his larynx removed due to cancer and this is our first visit since the surgery. He is quieter and can’t speak as much. Most people won’t remember my dad like this but since his laryngeal cancer diagnosis, he has changed. He can still be… Continue reading Making Bannock
I don't remember the first time that my family went to the Falls. I'm sure there's another name for them - a Dene name - but that's what I've called them in my head, so that's what they remain for now. But I remember climbing forever, it seemed, and the dry pine needles on the… Continue reading The Land Carries Stories