The Brown Knowser

Yesterday marked the 100 th day that I had given myself to approach 100 people, who I didn't know, and ask them if I could capture an image of them. And as you saw, last week, I finished my project early . In addition to placing these wonderful folks, who somehow trusted me enough to pose for my camera, and agree to let me add their image in a Flickr album , I have decided to take my 100 photographs and assemble them into a short video. So, without further ado, I present my 100 Strangers video. Enjoy!

I hope this post's title doesn't attract all the wrong kinds of hits. IT'S MUSIC, PEOPLE! Once again, I've chosen a random track from my smartphone, and this time, I've come up with a band that I like because their music is as varying as all the rest of my music from the many artists I have stored on my device. Radiohead can have loud, driving rock beats and soft, ethereal melodies. They can have a techo-synthesized sound or a catchy pop one. Radiohead is a lot of things. As we move into the summer and vacations, where we like to kick back and relax, their song, "Nude," from their album, In Rainbows , is a soft, mesmerizing tune. Enjoy: just keep your clothes on if you're listening to this song at the office. Happy Monday!

If you're a regular follower of my blog, you know that on the first Monday of each month, I run a contest in which I take a photo of some location in Ottawa, and you are invited to identify where that location is. I choose the spot for the contest in a couple of ways. Sometimes, I see a location and tell myself that I want to return to it at some point (usually, the weekend before the contest date) to photograph it when the light is just right or when I have the time to explore the building, or statue, or park, and can take a photo from an angle that will hopefully keep you guessing. Other times, I find myself in a spot, with camera in hand, and I say to myself, "this is the spot. I'm going to use this as the next Where In Ottawa ." I take the photo and hang onto it until the next contest date. Just like I did last week. I came across this place by accident. I missed a turn, got caught in the flow of traffic, and turned on some side streets for a neighbourhood...

I'm still shy. And while I might be able to converse with a total stranger, to ask him or her to pose for my camera, I still have to take a deep breath and push myself to approach the first one. But I have completed my project, almost one week ahead of schedule. The 100-day deadline is next Tuesday, June 29. I approached more than 120 people and I actually photographed 102. Two of my photos didn't turn out. I took photos of people in the Glebe, the Byward Market, Westboro, Sparks Street, and Parliament Hill. When I visited New York City, I even captured images strangers on the High Line. Photo courtesy Marc Dufour. I captured strangers. I shot 100 people I didn't know. Kind of makes me sound like a psychopath, a serial killer. My 100th stranger. When I took my last photo, when the final stranger was photographed, I felt jubilant, felt an immense sense of accomplishment. But I also felt sad: I wanted to keep going. Standing on Sparks Street at O'Conn...

It happens. I miss a couple of decent nights of sleep, I get tired, and the first thing to shut down is my brain, followed closely by my body. Sometimes, I can fight through the fatigue to finish a particular physical task. But when it comes to mental exhaustion, I can't force my mind to fight through it and come up with an idea, can't make my brain churn thoughts into written words. I can't remember the last time I went to bed before 1AM, the last time I slept in beyond seven o'clock. Except tonight, when I give myself a break. I leave you with an ominous sky, shot at sunset, with my daughters, at the Champlain Lookout, on Father's Day.   I'll have more words for you on Thursday. Tomorrow is a Wordless Wednesday .

Once again, I have picked a random song from my smartphone, and this time I have come up with a song from one of my favourite Canadian songwriters, Hawksley Workman . I have heard several versions of his song, "Piano Blink," including a slow, melancholy version when I first saw him perform live, and I love every version. Here's a video that Hawksley shot, by the look of it, from inside Toronto's Eaton Centre, after closing. Have a watch. Happy Monday!

Yes, give me a small venue every time . Give me a performance where you are so close to the artist that you can reach out and touch her. Where she not only gives a great show, not only sings with a beauty that brings me to the verge of tears, but she also talks to her audience, makes us feel like we're a smaller group than we are already, where she brings an intimacy that you cannot achieve on a big stage. She saw me and said hello and called me a friend as she took to the stage. As she left it, she took my outstretched hand and squeezed it. We chatted after the show, as her many adoring fans came to congratulate her and thank her for the wonderful evening. I can die now. Yes, give me a small venue every time. Happy Friday! Sidebar: It should be duly noted that Sarah had to call in a last-minute change to the string quartet that so beautifully accompanied her. Ottawa's own Thaddeus Morden learned all of the numbers over the course of the day, leading up to ...

At a U2 concert, back in the 80s, I got caught in the hot and humid crush of general admission. I lost my balance at one point, started to fall over, and would have surely been crushed, had a friend not grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. The same thing happened when Peter Gabriel was on his Security tour. Too many people, not enough ventilation at the Civic Centre, in Lansdowne Park. This time, thankfully, a friend and I found a spot on the sideboards of the skating rink, transformed into general admission. We were directly in front of the sound crew, who couldn't see us, and we enjoyed an unobstructed view of the show. Getting out, however, was nuts. When The Who played their first Fond-Farewell concert, in Toronto, I found myself, once again, in the crush of the crowd. This time, I found myself separated from my friends, and I tried to find a place where I could stand and see the stage. When the opening act, Joe Jackson, played, he was met with an unwelcoming crowd...

"You're going to Europe without a chaperone?" a colleague once asked me, when my wife (who was, then, my girlfriend) and I first planned a vacation to England, Wales, and France. "I don't need a chaperone," I said, "I'm 26." "Oh," she replied, "I thought you were only 18." When my wife taught ESL, before we went to Korea, a student of hers invited us over to her home for lunch. When this woman, who was possibly in her 40s, of Eastern European descent, saw me for the first time, she said to Lori, "I didn't realize you had married someone so much younger than you." She guessed my age at 22. Lori wasn't impressed: she is three years younger than me, and I was 32 at the time. Throughout my life, people have found it difficult to accurately guess my age. They always think that I'm younger than I actually am. I attribute that error to the fact that I usually act like I'm 12. It's only recent...

In choosing today's pick for Music Monday , I decided to pick a random song from my smartphone and share it with you. When selecting this random song, I was able to find a video that I could share with you. For as long as I can do it, this is how I will run Music Monday in the future (until the randomness looks like I only have a couple of artists. Or only a handful of songs). Years ago, before I had an iPod, before I even had a Sandisk MP3 player, I had a glorified USB stick that was meant to hold MP3 files that could easily be played by inserting it into any device with a USB port. I had a car stereo that accepted this stick, read the metadata, and displayed the songs on my radio. The stick came pre-loaded with five songs, and to this day I have four of them that are now stored on my Android phone. One of them is by a California band called Loquat . They are best described as an indie-pop/folk/adult-alternative group whose strengths lie in their guitar and vocals, primaril...

It was a small forest. It divided École Élémentaire Catholique Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau from the pathway that followed the transit corridor. When the OC Transpo buses and VIA Rail trains weren't lumbering along, you could feel a bit removed from the urban sprawl that is exploding all over Barrhaven. Where once there was a field, I remember seeing fireflies swirling and glowing in the early evenings. The field and forest are gone, now. Roads carve the field: new houses, made of wood, stand where trees once thrived, once provided a break between the school and the transitway. It makes me sad. I know, I have no ground upon which I can stand as I lament. My street, my neighbourhood, my house, are standing on what was once a farmer's field. Before the farm, no doubt, the woods in this area were vast. It would be nice to preserve some natural green space, to leave some of the forests in Barrhaven alone. But it's not going to happen. From a public meeting a few years...

It was one of the best jobs I ever had. It wasn't perfect—no job ever is—but I enjoyed showing up, enjoyed my co-workers (not all of them—we can't like everybody), enjoyed dealing with my customers, who were, on the whole, good to deal with. But it was retail, and you couldn't please everybody, and some customers liked to complain. But for the most part, it was a store for hobbyists, for photographers who wanted to acquire good equipment at a good price, who wanted to have their photos produced to the best quality that technology offered, that they wanted to buy frames in which to display their best photographs. I loved photography, so when I was not serving a customer, I was learning about the features and capabilities of the newest cameras. I read about photo techniques, so that I could show customers how to get the most out of their cameras, how to get the most enjoyment out of their hobby. I would review photos with customers, when they wanted to share, and help...

It was done just right. Knowing myself, I can be very lazy, especially when it comes to exercise and being active. Sure, I love to get on my bike and take long rides, to push myself to cycle to work and take a meandering route home. I have enjoyed joining a cycling club and participating in group rides that have taken me to new areas on the outskirts of our fair city. But to get on my bike to do a vigorous workout, to build muscle and get a good cardio workout, I tend to say, "no, I think I'll sleep in," or, "no, I think I'll have that pint of ale." I prefer being a couch potato to being any sort of athlete. I get on my bike because I enjoy it, but because I have signed up for the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour for the past three years, I know that in order to come close to reaching Kingston and making it back to where I started, I have to train. I have to ride extended distances. I have to practice going up hills. I've explained my first trip, in d...

It has been made aware to me that my Where In Ottawa contest is becoming ever-dependent on the clues that I give. To test that, I have a really easy clue on the fourth day of the photo challenge and, as predicted, the location was found. That's okay. I want the photos to stump you. Congratulations goes out to Mike, who correctly identified the Ottawa School of Art, in the Byward Market. Here are the clues, explained: 1879 association —back then, a group of prominent Ottawans formed an association of fellow art lovers who wanted to promote fine art throughout Canada. Half a block from home —when the Ottawa School of art moved to 35 George Street, in 1983, it was only half a block away from where it was originally located, at the corner of George and Sussex. In the Market for art —this was the giveaway clue. This art school is in the Byward Market. No further explanation is needed. Next month, I'm going to return to posting only one photo for the contest. Like Mike,...

One of my favourite neighbourhoods in New York City is the Flatiron District. You have lots of great restaurants, plenty of shops, and Madison Square Park. And I could take photos of the Flatiron Building all day and night. And I have done that many times, including on my last trip. But there's another building in this neighbourhood that always catches my eye: the Met Life Tower on Madison Avenue at 23rd Street. And no matter the time of day, it always looks great. That's all I have to say. Happy Friday!

It was bound to happen. Perhaps, I jinxed myself. In the four years that I have had my road bike, through the thousands of kilometres I have ridden it, never once have I wiped out, never once have I become stuck in the clips and fallen over. Until Tuesday night, when I participated in a group ride with the Ottawa Bicycle Club, from the Nepean Sportsplex to the town of Richmond. And it happened twice. The first fall happened at a red light. I had unclipped my shoe from one pedal and placed it on the ground, but I wasn't quite balanced as I came to a stop, and I  started leaning to the opposite side, becoming off-balanced. Before I could come unclipped, I fell over, onto my right side. My saving grace came as I sensed that I was going to fall over, and I shifted my body so that I rolled onto my back. My right hand came down hard on the pavement, but the only thing that felt hurt right then and there was my pride, as the other cyclists looked at me with shocked ex...