Yesterday night I did something that I rarely do: I brought my camera along for the evening! In this case, it involved heading down to King & John to have a quick bite (i.e. brisket/emmental/sauerkraut sandwich on croissant) at the inexpensive but good O&B Canteen before catching a film at the TIFF Lightbox, Apitchatpong Weerasethakul’s Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (this year’s Palme d’Or at Cannes). The film was excellent and got me thinking about a million things, as great films do. Still, I got out of there and was feeling ‘blurry’ and almost didn’t take my camera out. Except that in the end I did, and I am very happy with the result of my little half-hour shoot. As you know by now, I am not at all a street shooter (like my friend Yannick K, for example), so this isn’t a documentary series. Instead, what I offer you today t is my form of nighttime poetry, a sort of textural experimentation that resumes well the mood I was (am?) in. Leave your comments!
CP 