Fotoeins Fotografie

location bifurcation, place vs. home

Posts from the ‘Summer’ category

U Kasaren, Hradcany, Prag, Prague, Praha, Czech Republic, fotoeins.com

My Prague: a favourite place to return

Above/featured: U Kasáren from Loretánská, Hradčany – 30 July 2016 (HL).

On a personal level, the impact of this city can’t be gauged, measured, or quantified. What I know is I’ve roamed this place over countless little cobblestones. The sum of all strides led me to jumping continents and traversing nations with steps as large as my imagination could entertain and overcome.

And so, after the twelfth, fifteenth, or twentieth visit (I’ve lost count), I look at these images and ask why I surrender to the pull, why I return, and why the Czech capital city feels familiar. It’s about the old and the new, a colourful combination replacing what I’ve lost and amplifying what I’ve gained.

Prague is one of my favourite places to return.

summer sunrise, sunrise, summer, Karluv most, Charles Bridge, Prag, Prague, Praha, Czech Republic, fotoeins.com

Daybreak and a halo for St. John of Nepomuk, Charles Bridge (Karlův most) – 28 July 2013 (HL).

National Monument, Vítkov, Zizkov, Prag, Prague, Praha, Czech Republic, fotoeins.com

Over the city to the west from the National Monument on Vítkov (Národní památník na Vítkově), Žižkov – 2 August 2013 (HL).

Muzeum, stanice metra, metro station, DPP, Prag, Prague, Praha, Czech Republic, fotoeins.com

Metro line C commuters at Muzeum station – 8 November 2016 (HL)

Ginger and Fred, Fred and Ginger, Dancing House, Tančící dům, Prag, Prague, Praha, Czech Republic, fotoeins.com

Dancing House (Tančící dům) with streaking northbound streetcar, Nové Město – 6 November 2016 (HL)

I wrote a “love letter” to Prague, which as many have discovered also includes “the night watch.”

I made all of the above images in 2013 and 2016. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotografie at fotoeins.com as https://wp.me/p1BIdT-bCs.

The place where I died

With these pictures, I explored the perspective of witnessing a parent’s unstoppable decline to the end. I didn’t include pictures of my father in this set, but I gave voice to growing distress at his final journey in orbit around a downward spiral. My gaze drifted externally to the space and form of the hospital and to the surroundings outside.

On 19 July 2014, Dad was taken to Vancouver’s St. Paul’s Hospital after he had a minor fall down the stairs at home. No bones were broken, which was remarkable considering his worsening health in the final stages of cancer. He would never return to the house in which he and Mum had bought and lived since 1976.

By the 2nd week, he had been moved from to the Palliative Care Unit (PCU) on the 10th floor. The wonderful hospital staff took great care of him and other patients in the unit. Dad charmed the PCU staff by chatting with them in broken English; it was his way of exerting some measure of control. I also witnessed the inevitable “shuffle”. One day, a patient slept quietly in one of the other beds, surrounded by members of his family. The following day, the bed was cleared, cleaned, and prepared for a new patient.

Into week 3, his mind and spirit departed, and he became completely unresponsive to external prompts. Over the following days, his body remained, accompanied by sounds of breathing, often shallow and laboured. He was at peace, and thanks to the meds, in diminished pain. I’d been with Dad a part of every day for 21 consecutive days. Friday came and went, and so did the passing of the sun. As I’d done every evening, I leaned down and whispered: “good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The following morning, I awoke to a phone call. The nurse’s voice was calm and gentle. Somewhere in the universe, I heard faint echoes of the death rattle. I said to the nurse: “thank you for your phone call. We’ll be at the hospital in a few hours.”

I ended the call and looked down at my watch: 613am. The date was August 9. He had celebrated his 82nd birthday only a few weeks earlier.

Northern summers, especially July and August, mean something entirely different.

( Click here for images and more )

BC Shellfish and Seafood Festival, Comox Valley Economic Development Society, Comox Valley, BC, Canada, fotoeins.com

Comox Valley BC Shellfish & Seafood Festival (2015) (IG)

As guests of the Discover Comox Valley (Economic Development Society), fellow travel blogger Megan and I were invited as participating travel media to attend the opening weekend of the BC Shellfish and Seafood Festival. The following visuals highlight a number of the activities in Comox, Courtenay, and Campbell River.

  • ‘Fresh Fest’ public event with food and music, 12 June
  • Gartley Point Hatchery, 13 June
  • Lunch at Kingfisher Oceanside Resort and Spa
  • Mac’s Oysters
  • Flying Fresh lobster extravaganza, industry & public event
  • BC Seafood Expo & Workshop Series, 14 June
  • Cermaq Canada’s Venture Point aquaculture facility, 15 June

‘Fresh Fest’ – 12 June

Site Tours – 13 June

BC Seafood Expo – 14 June

Norway's ambassador to Canada, Her Excellency Mona Elisabeth Brøther, BC Seafood Expo, Courtenay, BC, Canada, fotoeins.com

Via Skype from Ottawa: Her Excellency Mona Elisabeth Brøther, Norway’s ambassador to Canada (HL)

South-central coastline – 15 June

Cermaq, Venture Point, Okisollo Channel, between Quadra Island and Sonora Island, Campbell River, BC, Canada, fotoeins.com

Cermaq’s Venture Point aquaculture farm, Okisollo Channel, BC, Canada (HL)

BC Shellfish and Seafood Festival, Comox Valley, BC, Canada, fotoeins.com

Thanks to Discover Comox Valley, Comox Valley Economic Development Society (EDS), Cermaq, and the BC Salmon Famers Association for supporting and providing access to venues and activities along central Vancouver Island, and to Old House Hotel & Spa for a generous and comfortable stay. The first (featured) and last images are generously provided by the Comox Valley EDS. I made the other photos from 12 to 15 June 2015 inclusive. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotopress at fotoeins.com as http://wp.me/p1BIdT-6Uj.

Vancouver: the forgotten’s fireworks from St. Paul’s

2 August 2014.

I’m in one of the city’s hospitals, visiting my father who’s in very bad shape.

I’ve helped feed him dinner of roast pork, peas, and gravy, a direct sensory reminder of his past as ‘line cook’ in a downtown diner nearby. He eats with great enthusiasm, the most I’ve seen him eat in weeks. Dinner’s done, and he’s worn out. I suggest we go “around the corner” with him in a wheelchair to watch the evening’s fireworks, but he gently declines. A twinge reflects the growing reality of him never seeing fireworks again, but the feeling is moderated by resolved acceptance and mild resignation.

I go out into the corridor where people have already gathered by the windows next to the elevators. From the heights of the hospital, there are spectacular views of the downtown peninsula, towards Burrard Inlet, English Bay, and the waters of the Salish Sea. What sacred spirits have come and gone, then and the now.

Waiting patiently to catch a brief glimpse of fireworks are other hospital patients, their family, and various hospital staff taking breaks in their work schedule. It’s a four-day holiday weekend here in the province of British Columbia, and early August weather is summertime hot under the dome of clear blue skies.

Judging by the look in some people’s eyes, I empathize with feelings which must remain unspoken: “I’d rather be outside, laughing and having a good time, surrounded by family and friends.”

I thought about making a few photographs of the fireworks through the large windows, but something pulls me back, and I decide not to image the fireworks directly.

My thinking about this situation quickly clarifies. What I’ll do is record people watching the fireworks through the windows of the hospital’s upper floors.

They are not forgotten. It’s my promise to capture with a camera’s all-seeing eye an elemental and universal desire for something beyond the ephemeral and temporal, something that approaches a kind of eternity.

( Click here for images )

Tian Tan Buddha, Ngong Ping, Ngong Ping 360, Lantau Island, Hong Kong, fotoeins.com

My Hong Kong: above on the Ngong Ping 360

If you’re in Hong Kong and you’re thinking about visiting the “Big Buddha” on Lantau Island, you should consider the 6-kilometre Ngong Ping 360 cable-car high above the island.

From the Tung Chung lower station to the Ngong Ping upper station, the 25-minute cable car ride offers a 360-degree view of the Tung Chung development, Tung Chung Bay, the HKG international airport at Chep Lap Kok, and the forested parklands of Lantau North Country Park. At Ngong Ping village, most will head out on foot to visit the nearby Po Lin Monastery and the Tian Tan Buddha (known also as the “Big Buddha”), hike across North Lantau back towards Tung Chung, or hop on a bus to any number of villages along the island’s coastline.

From central Hong Kong, hop onto the MTR Tung Chung transport-line to the western terminus station in the town of Tung Chung. Located across from the MTR station is the lower station for the “Ngong Ping 360“, labeled ‘T’ (for Tung Chung) in the map below. ‘N’ marks the upper station at Ngong Ping. As of June 2014, adult fares for the standard cabin are $105 HKD one-way (about $14 USD) and $150 HKD return (about $19 USD); private cabins or “crystal” cabins with glass floors cost extra. The 360 operates weekdays 10am to 6pm, and weekends/holidays 9am to 630pm.

( Click here for more )