Michael R. Barrick

Life Lessons from Water #1

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 05:53:24 GMT

There are three bridges over the river that runs through the small town where I grew up. Each has been cleverly named by the hard-working colonial sorts that carved the town out the wilderness at the far-flung westernmost end of the British Empire. Furthest upstream of the three is a bridge that is painted white, known as White Bridge. Furthest downstream is the bridge that has always been painted metallic silver, known as Silver Bridge. Between the two is the oldest bridge, the very reason for the town's existence, the black iron rail bridge known, of course, as Black Bridge.

Before I get into the story I mean to tell, understand the character of this town. In the 1980's the Ministry of Highways, presumably because of a good deal on green paint, decided that all bridges under their mandate were to be painted the same colour green. The citizens of my home town were livid, very nearly up in arms. How dare the ministry do something so absurd as paint Silver Bridge green? Rallied by the owners of the Silver Bridge Inn the townspeople wrote angry letters to the provincial legislature, the local papers, and the "important" newspaper out of Victoria, the Times Colonist (formerly the British Colonist, which merged with the Victoria Times) - a sure sign that this was a big deal. The people prevailed and to this day Silver Bridge is the only bridge on a provincial highway in British Columbia that isn't green.

The same spritus mundi maintained strict traditions around Black Bridge as well. Black Bridge crosses the river at a point were the river bends sharply and swirling winter floodwaters have dug out a very deep pool, making Black Bridge ideal for the daring to jump off. My mother used to jump off the bridge when she was young, and new to the town and Canada, sixty years ago. My siblings all had their turns jumping off the bridge. Everyone did it. It was a necessary right of passage, particularly for boys. Every possible platform suitable for leaping from was named with the same inescapable pragmatism that the bridges themselves were named. There was the lowest-most point, the protruding bottom portion of the I-beams supporting the bridge deck, "Bottom". The rails next to the bridge deck and tracks, "Rail". The points where the torsion bars criss-crossed between the superstructure were "First Cross", "Second Cross" and "Third Cross". The top of the superstructure was "Top."

"Bottom" was about 10 metres above the water. "Rail" 12 metres, "First Cross" about 15 metres, "Second Cross" about 18 metres, "Third Cross" another three metres higher, and "Top" about 25 metres or so over the water. Bottom was considered only suitable for small children, girls, and those ancient folk over 30 that insisted on embarrassing themselves. No boy over the age of 12 would consider the humiliating climb down to rail and those that did were guaranteed to be - literally - spit upon by the older boys standing on Rail.

Rail was by far the most popular place to jump from. Rail was about a metre above the bridge deck and tracks and was really a number parallel rails about two centimetres wide and about four centimetres apart that bound together the pillars that supported the I-beams that supported the bridge deck and the criss-crossing torsion bars that kept the bridge stable. Altogether Rail was about a metre and a half wide and an easy place to stand and talk with your friends, finish the smoke you lit before walking on the the bridge, and to moon the Day-Liner passenger train full of tourists when it went by. Jumping from Rail was easy, just a running step and then a glorious second of gangly, flailing, teenage arms and legs before hitting the cool water and climbing up to do it again.

First-time jumpers were always given the same advice by the more experienced. Just look once to make sure you won't hit anyone or anything, take a deep breath, and jump. One you hesitate and start to think you'll think yourself out of it and never be able to go. And chickening out from rail was another sure-fire way to find yourself being spit upon. And understand we are talking about the most disdainful lougies and greenies that teenage boys could muster. Those that hesitated usually did jump eventually simply out of the overwhelming compulsion to wash and never hesitated again.

That was the lesson. After the practical moment of planning one's trajectory came the Zen instant of launch, then flight. The fear never went away, that's what made it fun. It was always there in that split second when the unnamed Zen master inside pulled the arms and legs that weren't really your own and flung the eyes in your head into the sky between the bridge and water. Fearless action is no fun. That fear was the thrill. That's what brought you back.

Jumping was all about learning to face fear. Just take a deep breath and jump. The better you got at it, the higher you could go. You couldn't jump from the crosses without facing the mortal fear of failing. Just climbing the torsion bars took a kind of lunatic courage, let alone flinging yourself off. And above Rail there was no one to spit on you. Going higher you only had your own fear to face—and that was the whole reason for doing it.

Golfers in front of Black Bridge, c. 1920.

Old-Fashioned Promises

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 01:44:24 GMT

Elaine and I made a promise to each other today. We made a promise about where we want our relationship to go. We made a promise about what we want out of our lives and how we each see the other in that picture.

We both know that it is going to take time to gain confidence that we can both keep this promise. We both know that life isn't always easy and doesn't always go to plan, and it takes time to ensure that a promise like this can stand up to the vicissitudes of mundane fortune. We plan to put in that time and the effort it takes to build a really solid foundation. Right now we are both working to become the people we need to be both separately and together, and some of that has been very difficult to do and there is more hard work to come. We don't know how long it will take, but we both know why we want to. This a promise to stay on the same path to the same end.

There is a word for binding to this kind of solemn promise, but like so many things in these modern times it rarely gets used the way it used to be meant anymore.

We're engaged.

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 07:02:21 GMT

Happy Birthday evilyn13!!

Professional Courtesy

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 16:21:43 GMT

If you want to book me as a photographer bear in mind that I am busy and I'm not going to have all day to wait around. I need a firm time in advance and I need you to stick to that time because chances are I have something I need to do right after. And if you set a time make sure you can stick to it. Models need to be there before me and should be ready to go before or as soon as I am set up. If I'm sitting on my ass waiting for the model(s) to arrive, let alone get ready, the meter is still on and you will be getting billed. If you can't tell me when the shoot is going to be until day-of, it's not going to happen.

Published in Gothic Beauty #25

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 19:47:35 GMT

One of the pictures from the Columbia Gorge shoot for Art of Adornment is published in the current issue of Gothic Beauty (Issue 25, p.33). Below is a scan with the associated text from accompanying article by Acid PopTart highlighted.

Don't Worry

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 20:24:06 GMT

For those of you that may be a little concerned about me since I haven't been answering e-mails, LJ comments, Facebook messages, et al, don't be. There were some problems at work on Tuesday that kept me at work until 10:30 p.m. or so. Last night I was assembling new furniture and fixing a problem with my server so Elaine could update her store remotely. Tonight I have a date. I'm also busy Friday night. Saturday I have more furniture to assemble, taxes to do, web updates for an old client, my usual Saturday photography gig, etc.

Rest assured I am not sitting around moping. I'm busy. Too busy, actually. I want to just hang with friends, but I have no time.

Thank you all for all the kind words and concern.

Earth Hour

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 03:52:25 GMT

At the moment my apartment is lit up like an aeroplane hanger. I have every light I can find on, including my photo-floods. Why? Because the simplistic and ill-conceived idea of Earth Hour offends me. Turning off a few lights is, in fact, taking a step backwards. The ability to harness energy is the measure of a civilisation's level of advancement. I reject the notion of a future where we use less energy. Let's find better ways to harness the energy we are only using a fraction of. And there is only one way that will happen - if demand continues to increase and there is a profit-motive for producing energy in ways that are cleaner, more efficient and more sustainable than dependency on the current oil-economy.

The idea of turning off lights and "conserving" energy is centred in the idea that energy is a limited commodity, which in itself is a notion steeped in oil-economy thinking. Natural processes in the Earth - essentially the sum total of energy the Earth receives from the sun and other, less significant outside sources - amounts to 174 petawatts. Of that resource, we are currently harnessing only a small fraction of that, mostly in form of consuming fossil fuels. "Conserving" energy and perpetuating the oil-economy perpetuates the dependence on this mode of energy extraction and hampers the development of radical change away from this destructive consumption.

On a more local level, British Columbia produces an excess of energy, mostly from hydroelectric sources (to the point where the provincial energy company is called "BC Hydro" and people refer to their power bills as "hydro bills" and regularly use the word "hydro" as a colloquial synonym for electricity). Much of the production is exported over huge distances, particularly to California, where a significant amount is lost as thermal energy via electrical resistance in the transmission wires. Yet at the same time BC Hydro continually continually produces "green" propaganda, encouraging it's domestic customers to conserve. This is presented as an ethical position. However, domestic conservation allows BC Hydro, a heavily regulated crown corporation, to export more electricity to customers outside the scope of the regulations they are bound by domestically at elevated prices. Unlike many utilities in the U.S. and elsewhere, "Green" BC Hydro will not, for example, buy back energy from those clever enough to have found ways to produce more energy than they consume and feed back into the grid. Nothing speaks to their corporate hypocrisy more than that.

Here in this province of mountains with raging rivers, windy valleys, long fjords with rapid tidal currents, hot-springs, and countless other sources of procurable energy I utterly refuse to play the oil-economy game that "Earth Hour" represents.

Snow

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 17:22:16 GMT

In Vancouver, downtown, at the end of March. WTF?

My cherry tree started to blossom yesterday and now it is snowing. Somebody mail this weather back to Toronto, please.

3.14

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 10:00:04 GMT

Having Fun with One of Trish and Isaac's Vacation Photos

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 04:48:40 GMT

Just when you think you are big-shot, karma jumps up and bites you in the ass.

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 17:45:45 GMT

This morning as I was waiting to cross the street a commonplace scene played out with a better-than-usual ending. The second vehicle in line for the light was an SUV loaded up for an extended weekend at Whistler. The SUV was honking at the car ahead for not leaving enough room for the behemoth to inch past and make a right turn on the red. The extra 30-seconds of waiting was clearly cutting into the poor SUV driver's recreation time. The car in front kindly pulled up a few feet to let the asshole by, but —alas— too late, the walk signal changed and we foul pedestrians were then the obstacle impeding the great and glorious SUV. This must have made the driver even more impatient because just after I set foot on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street my ears were greeted with a honk and a crunch. The impatient and self-adborbed SUV driver, finally free of the pedestrians crossing in the opposite direction, had shot out to at last make his right turn... and failed to notice the light had changed and the bus that was travelling in the curb lane.

The bus was pulling into a stop so it wasn't travelling very fast and I'm sure no one was injured on the bus or in the SUV. Nonetheless, the SUV's driver-side rear quarter was significatly messed-up, as, I'm sure, was the extended weekend in Whistler that couldn't wait 30-seconds.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8357

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 15:00:03 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress (also featuring tharsis).

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8355

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 15:00:05 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress (also featuring tharsis).

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8340

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 15:00:13 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8326

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 15:00:01 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8321

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 15:00:00 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Bentall Towers

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 20:25:15 GMT

Vancouver, BC. The Bentall Towers at night with Burrard Station in the lower right and Harbour Centre in the distance.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8320

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 15:00:02 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8301

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 15:00:05 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8298

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 15:00:04 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8297

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 15:00:03 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8288

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 15:00:17 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress (also featuring _jazz_).

Lovely Fog

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 06:02:05 GMT

There was a lovely fog this morning. These were taken through a window with my pocket camera, so there are reflections, noise, and other problems that relegate these to the realm of "snapshots" - but still, worth sharing.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8285

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 15:00:11 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.

Kambriel Dress Shoot 8283

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 15:00:08 GMT

Valerian of Art of Adornment in her Kambriel flapper dress.