top of page

curly moon, 2020, vancouver

16" x 20" edition of 5, sold out

Spring came and went once the pandemic was announced. I hadn’t seen Alcee in a few months prior to this photo, when we used to see each other daily either in between work at our studios or at parties. 

She’s one of those people I wish I knew growing up. 

We were catching up on how we were staying sane through the uncertainty of the world. I was locked in my room and treated the whole ordeal like prison. I’d exercise, read, and play binge media. I gave up freelancing and assisting. She had just started her business, Room 312, and I can’t express how brave that was considering there were articles everywhere about the impending death of retail. 

I had thought of giving up photography altogether and selling my gear, thinking it a fool’s errand and a rat race. I sat down at a cushy job at UBC through the brunt of Delta, Omicron, etcetera. Needless to say since you’re here looking at my work, it wasn’t for me at all. Who hasn’t really had some sort of existential crisis recently? If you haven’t, please let me know how you’ve managed to not stray from either coping or regression.

This was taken at Iona beach, one of my favourite haunts in the city. At certain hours and angles the horizon seemingly disappears once the mud reflects the dimming sun. It’s especially stunning on a slightly cloudy day when the refraction of light in the atmosphere has its signature mix of magentas, oranges, reds, and yellows. The sky was clear that summer evening and the moon was bigger than I’ve ever seen. And of course, despite the world being knocked off its regular orbit, Alcee was dressed to the nines. It all seems like a faint memory even though it was just two years ago. 

bottom of page