Around the Lens - Beyond the Tide

The sea creatures out here like it cold, rough, and salty - just what the North Pacific is constantly dishing out.  As distant wave energy expends itself on the sharp, black volcanic shelves of reef - hundreds of varieties of mussels, clams, urchins, barnacles, and anemones (to name only a fraction) are shot with this clean, cold, nutrient dense water.  Eel grass hypnotically obscures colourful orange and purple starfish, shy crabs, and psychedelic rainbow anemones.  Gooseneck barnacles extend their heads from vast mussel beds millions strong like slimy, fire engine red lipstick while octopus, salmon, and translucent blue jellyfish occupy the deeper and more distant places.  The biodiversity both above and below the water is intense.

Below the tide line is a place which most people will never know.  Seeing literally hundreds of forms of life in small tide pools is an amazing experience.  My goal with this photo - which is becoming a part of a larger series - is to show what a rich and complex world lives just below the shiny surface of sparkling waves dancing away from the setting sun.

All of these creatures are delicate and fragile, yet amazingly tough to be able to stand up to the legendary ferocity of a proper winter storm above the 49th parallel.  They are built to ebb and flow with the storms and the tides - but not against foreign substances like stray crude oil, industrial sludge, and soil choked runoff.  In the face of proposed oil tankers, pipelines, and industrial permits, it’s unsettling to think of what would happen to this coast if something went wrong.  Especially given the fact that with a long enough timeline - something always goes wrong.

A lot of Canadians see the west as a natural savings account to drive our country’s economy.  We see things a little differently in BC because we surf in these uninviting waters, walk through stands of ancient moss cloaked giants, and gaze out across an immense landscape that is worth holding on to.  We see and experience things that the rest of the country doesn’t and need to advocate for lands which cannot speak.  

I chose to depict a surfer gazing out into the setting sun with beautiful wild creatures at her feet because we who love and recreate in these places know them more intimately than anyone else and need to be the ones educating and showing how special they really are.  That they’re worth protecting - not purely for economic value, but for the fact that these small creatures, clean waters, and diverse forests are what make where we live special.

- April 2016

Around the Lens - Painting With Prana (session 3)

My headlamp died 5 minutes after leaving the truck.  It took a few minutes for our eyes to adjust, but enough blue light from the nearly full moon filtered through the thick canopy of old growth coastal cedars and spruce for us to navigate our path.  Caroline and I made our way down a line of bare wood in the center of the old boardwalk, moss colonizing the flanks and cracks between the rotting planks, the forest reclaiming what was rightfully theirs.  

The low tide beach was bathed in silver moonlight with gentle whitewash imbricating synchronistically up and down the shoreline.  Traversing the open expanse of sand, an unsettling, fresh set of wolf tracks carved their way down the beach.  Violent turns, impossibly long strides, and claw marks skidding to a stop told of a frantic chase.  The paws were the same size as Caroline’s hand, so we hoped it had already caught its dinner.

Clouds raced past, obscuring the moon only to unveil its luminosity again as we set up for the shoot.  Caroline climbed up to a tiny volcanic tidal island topped with waxy salal and a single stunted spruce tree permanently directed east from relentless North Pacific winds.  The shrubbery proved to be an annoyance, blocking out crucial light, so it took a few different angles to achieve any decent results.  

Happy with our tree island, Caroline spotted some interesting composition near a deeply cut channel rushing with foamy water.  As we began to shoot, a large set of waves crashed onto the rock pillars behind me and heaved into the surge channel beside Caroline.  Only barely, we managed to stay out of harms way and made it out mostly dry with some cool photos.  

Our last set up took us back to the expansive beach from which we came.  The rising tide had appropriated a decent amount of real estate, but still left us with lots of sand to continue experimenting with the different forms of yoga.  Some of the creations which appeared were a salmon head in a bubble, a uterus with legs, a Japanamation superhero, and my favorite pictured here - the sauntering elephant.  

- April 2016

*Painting With Prana is an ongoing personal project documenting the movement of yoga through light painting in beautiful outdoor spaces.  A gallery of images from the study will be appearing on my website in the coming weeks.

Around the Lens - Painting with Prana (session2)

The newly constructed, mostly finished trails of Tonquin beach park are all starting to look the same in the rapidly fading light.  Even though there should still be an hour of twilight left on this clear Pacific North West evening, the thick mossy canopy of Sitka Spruce and ancient Cedar trees mask all but a trickle of light - even on a sunny day.  Nicole is leading us on a gravel trail that traverses steep black volcanic headlands to a pocket beach which should have enough sand exposed at low tide for our little project.  

This is the second shooting session of my Painting With Prana Project where the goal is to get visually stunning images that capture the movement of yoga in unique locations.  We emerge out of the forest onto a stage bright enough to set up our studio which consists of small speakers, a yoga mat, and a camera set for long exposures.  Nicole warms up, Caroline picks the music, and I frame my shot with Echachis and Vargas Islands soaking up the afterglow of the summer sun.

Surprisingly, there is still a fair bit of light around so dialing in an exposure suitable to capture enough of the low powered lights attached to Nicole’s hands.  We start off with some ground sequences, then to standing vinyasas which take on a more geometric look.  This is another one of the goals - to see the difference in patterns and light trails left by the yogis and their chosen sequences.  This is a totally new sensation for Nicole as she has never practiced yoga in almost complete darkness.  Especially on a remote beach with no one around.

I climb up a cliff on the far side of the little beach for a different vantage and decide on taking a 25 minute exposure to create trails left by the stars.  Unknowingly everything we brought has slowly been colonized by an army of sand fleas, so we have to eat snacks standing up.  

When we start up again, the theme changes a bit as one of Nicole’s new favorite songs “Hideaway” come on and it turns into more of a dance session as opposed to pure yoga.  On camera this looks like a giant glowing chandelier!  After two hours we decide to call it a night and leave our beach to navigate the web of trails back to my truck and onto The Wolf in the Fog for boozy coffees and celebratory cake for dessert.

- August 2014

Around the Lens - Surf by fatbike

It’s usually a 2km hike just to check this spot, so you are always bringing your board and wetsuit with you, but, it’s a nice way to get warm before jumping into 10 degree water.  A rocky outcrop above the thick green canopy of the northern temperate jungle provides the first glimpse of the wave, if you can even see through the fog.  But today we ride!

This is my first time on an electric fatbike.  A tool that has been used for snowy winter commutes for years is making its way to the coast and excelling at accessing remote beach breaks which were previously a pain in the ass to get to.  With every pedal stroke assisted by a battery powered motor providing the same amount of power the rider puts in to push the slick 4 inch tires, it makes soft sand actually fun to ride on!  

Equipped with board racks and a bob trailer filled with wetsuits, lunch, and post surf beers, we casually ride north past the small first nations reserve of Esowista dodging foamy whitewash and watching the waves roll into the beach.  Thirty minutes later, we pull up to chest high waves peeling down the rarely surfed sandy point break.  Stoke is high as we suit up, and paddle out for our own private session.

- May 2015