This is my photo essay about the 6 days I spent trucking with my father. Until that week, we hadn’t really spoken or spent any time together for about 5 years. In an attempt to hopefully mend things or at least give myself some closure, I contacted him while I was in Martinique. Eventually we…
There was Jagermeister. And that July girl could carry on a conversation all by herself. Small doses, please. It was the new year and I had just gotten my first tattoo: a doctor bird, the national hummingbird of Jamaica, to be specific. Five-person house party at Bloor & Ossington. I was eager at eighteen, wanting…