dad

When thinking about a fathers day post,i traveled through memory lane for a long while and arrived here. I was young i had just moved to old montreal where i had found a fantastic loft in a run down building. the building was divided in floors; first floors the sculptures, second floor the chefs from a wonderful vegetarian restaurants the third floor the musician and then my floor the photographers( although i could hardly call my self one at the time). The building was most likely not to code. Somehow my father would drive up from the west island everyday to visit "hang out" he was not much into the arts yet he would come into the loft and look at the paintings on the wall, he would chat with others. After a while i started realizing that he might have been worrying about me in my new place.

I did not have a lot of money at the time and would play the tams( african drums) in assigned musicians area's of the metro (subway) and the money i collected then would go straight to buying film, yes film was not cheap and since i was not very good at it, it took a lot of film. My father would bring bread mostly in a plastic bag and almost every time at the bottom of the bag i would find money, he never handed it to me just left it there for me to find and use. I remember a lot of my loft days in montreal, like learning the drums with some very talented drummers from around the world as well as african dance, listening to santana, eating the best vegan meals by candle light prepared by great chefs and the hand made sign that i still have till this day that i had on my door "the art of life" but my favorite memory of all must be the little while that my father looked out for me. Oh and that father who was not to into the arts is an artist now who's work has been exhibited in canadian museums...

* the pictures are taken at "the life is good children's festival" in boston yesterday