I walk Vancouver with a small camera and a big curiosity for the theatre of its streets.
Between rain drizzle and glass façades, I chase the brief collisions of colour that surface when strangers, signage and shadows overlap. The resulting frames map a city reputed for restraint yet lit by flickers of play — a masked swordsman lunging beneath a concrete canopy; a bus window fogged with zombie hands; a sousaphone flare catching the sea; a sudden red thicket of illuminated poles swallowing night wanderers.
Each image is a fragment; together they sketch an urban pulse that slips past bylaws and bedtime.
My current long-form project circles these moments of accidental spectacle, asking how light, reflection and gesture can rewrite the long-standing “No Fun” narrative without spelling out an answer, trusting the viewer to knit them into whatever myth—or antidote—they choose.
