Non-Fiction

the sun wakes me up late in the day as a dog impatient to eat. when sunlight passes through my eyelids it means i could be photographing it, so i wake up, i want to start looking. by around eleven or noon each day the sleep mask i have to wear to sleep slips off, and it's time to look again. time to see things, time to think about them. i love getting up for the day.

i can tell what kind of photo day it's going to be before i open the blinds. i start the day, open the blinds, look out at what the light's like, check the cloud cover, give rain the stink eye, get excited when there's sun and not a cloud to be seen.

i do miscellaneous activities like work, administrate, eat, for the hours before later afternoon, keeping an eye on the sky outside. i live on the eleventh floor of a south facing building in downtown toronto, with a wide open view over and through the city and out to the lake.

it's nearing the summer solstice, when the sun creeps higher every day and stretches the day out a few minutes more. it gives me the luxury of walking out to shoot photos later and later each day. if it's a photo shooting day, meaning any day that isn't raining beyond a light drizzle, i leave an hour to three hours before the so-called 'golden hour' time. in late may as it is now, i start getting ready to leave the apartment between four and five o'clock.

fetch the batteries from the charger, swap out the used one and pop in the charged one. put on some music. clothes, always the same thing, same pair of pants, same black hoodie, black ball cap. same pair of shorts if outside is warm, and rotating t-shirt.

shoes. minidisc and a few selections in the back pocket. at this point it can become a terrible limbo, wanting to just be outside already, not going fast enough, never going to get there, i have dreams about it.

apartment key and cash in zipper pocket. photo cards to hand out to strangers in side pocket. hat on, brim low. i fish the cord and the minidisc ear buds up and under my shirt, through the neck, and seal them into my ears.

grab the camera off of the table, throw the strap over my head around my neck, shut off the music, one last mental checklist.

at this point, i sometimes smoke a huge bowl, and sometimes i do not, but this is not that story.

head out the door it clumps behind me, step down the carpet in the hallway to the elevator. turn on the camera, check if i have downloaded the pictures that are currently on the card, if so, delete the contents of the card, watch the progress bar progress while waiting for the elevator.

i check exposure settings while the elevator glides me down to street level. thumb and forefinger fly across buttons and dials. by the fourth floor i have the camera set for the first light i'll hit outside. make sure minidisc is cued up and ready to start, but not playing yet. wrap the neck strap around my wrist and let the camera rest in my right hand. the weight feels so good.

bing.

across the shiny floor to the light, press through two sets of doors and i'm there. i only start the music then, to begin walking and looking. anticipation burns warm in my chest, the sunlight touches warm into my skin from afar. here.