Hyacinthoides and red tulip 12 April 2026

When Rosemary was around we helped each other remember the name of our plants. Most were always identified by metal tags that I put on the ground. The so called permanent pencils did not really work and after a few years the names would fade.

Today I looked at this lovely plant in a choice spot next to my oficina door. Rosemary must have planted it as I do not remember it at all. I photographed it with my phone and sent it to my eldest daughter who lives in Lillooet. She almost has an acre garden. She correctly identified it as hyacinthoides. I decided to scan it with an unaidentified red tulip.

At one time I would have been upset at not remembering the name of the plant. Age has helped me soften my stance.

At the very least the lovely white flowers of the hyacinthoides remind me of the grace and style of my Rosemary.

Left Dan Rutledge - Right John Armstrong - August 1987

My friend Ian McGuffie keeps telling me that we were both lucky to have been born in that other century.  He says we won the cosmic lottery.

Few know my age could boast that in Vancouver since 1977 I have worked at something I liked until recently. I am now 83 and retired from taking photographs and writing for magazines and newspapers.

Every once in a while I get upset when I cannot find my original negs or slides. In the August 1987 writer John Lekich wrote an article for Western Living called Changing. No publication would now hire anybody to write such a special essay.

I can assert that at the time the art director at Western Living Magazine was Chris Dahl and he told me, “Alex do something unusual. Use mirrors for these photographs.”

The missing negatives (I photographed 3 subjects, clinical psychologist Brian Ferris on the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery and therapist Dan Rutley, on the roof of the Vancouver Art Gallery) are those of Modernettes singer John Armstrong on Robson Street. John Lekich up in a building pointed a mirror on Armstrong’s face.

Chris Dahl further told me, “Alex you print these yourself and make them 11x14.” Luckily I do have the one of John Armstrong.

The main reason I have these photographs here is to explain what is missing with photographers in this century. They don’t have pushy art directors like Chris Dahl that helped me excel in my job.

 I Remember the Shapes and Sizes of the Water Taps

Ektachrome Blues 

Most of my family and friends either object or ignore my constant mentioning that because I am 83 I am statistically not going to be around much longer. Before my Rosemary died, I would tell her that I was WTD (waiting to die) but then softened it to PTD (preparing to die).

There is a pleasant side to PTD in that I am contacting people so as to tie up loose ends. I want to make sure I apologize if I offended any of them.

An even more pleasant activity is that in the last few weeks I have been sending from all my files all those pictures I took of all those lovely women beginning in Vancouver in 1977. I need first to have their email address so I can use the excellent WeTransfer method of sending many high res files.

I have written here before how painting artists go to live figure classes. They want to know exactly how the human figure moves. I did the same with my photography, particularly of women. This has served me well in taking portraits (a few fashion spreads) of both women and men. I never make my subjects sit, stand or walk in anything but the way they do it.

One of those women, who patiently kept silent at all my amateur photography, was an ecdysiast who went by the name of Alexandria. Who but Alexandria whom I photographed in my tub with a little sail boat, etc. could have launched:

1. A show at a Vancouver gallery of my portraits of about 14 women in tubs.

2. Associated in a blog of her in a tub with one of my mother’s favourite books, JarThe Bell  by Sylvia Plath. Particularly  I smile at the quote on Plaths bathtub faucets.

With Alexandria, perhaps because of her elegance, my photographs were never cheesy and the ones on her bed in low light were not exactly boudoir. One of those clichés of using venetian blinds on her body I think turned out quite nicely.

I must thank her here (I already sent her all her photographs) for her patience and for inspiration that in the end served me well for all my magazine work.

 These were all taken with Ektachrome 400 pushed to 800

8 April 2026

9 April 2026

When weather permits I make myself bike (3 speeds) to Jericho Beach and back. Today I was on my bed (fully clothed) ruminating why Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector is obsessed with the idea that the English word “it” does not translate into Spanish. She also writes that the most important word in language is “es” (it is) has only two letters.

If in English you write “it is” that translates to “es”. She or he is, translates to “es”.

That all becomes more complex when you find that the word está translates to “it is” with the possible translations to it is there, or está enferma as she is sick.

It was 2:30, the sun was shining and I asked myself to stay on the bed and not go on my bike. But I remembered my grandmother who would have said to me, “Ante pereza, diligencia.” That translates, “If you feel lazy try diligence.”

And so I went on my bike ride and here are a couple of photographs taken with the Lens Baby attachment to my Fuji digital camera.