Few Edmonton buildings call to mind New York’s projects, rugged and raw, half-formed, partially dismantled buildings of a not too distant era left behind and left derelict – home to those few or many down-on-their luck. The site of Edmonton’s former Molson Brewery in its semi-dismantled, unfinished and unconcluded state reminds me of the sights and sounds, the cadences and dialects of the English being spoken as I travelled by Greyhound from Toronto to Buffalo to New York City and then to Convent Station New Jersey in August of 1989 – a trip far away it seems in time, yet surprisingly near within imagination’s recollection. The priest who’d had his tonsils taken out at the kitchen table, the orthodox Jew in black taking daughters from Buffalo to New York, the Nun who led us in chant and harmony, the writing, writing and writing, Grand Central Station, Broadway, twenty-foot sidewalks populated with policemen, train travel and a Greyhound Strike – all were part of that five day trip.

Listening to and fretting Rickie Lee Jones’ Sailor Song, finding the sound and the rhythmic rhythm of a boat’s rolling on waves.

Quote to Inspire – “The whole point of taking pictures is so that you don’t have to explain things in words.” – Elliott Erwitt