Tag: personal work

Notes on the Arrival of Autumn

It starts with a deepening of shadows as the daily path of the sun passes closer and closer to the horizon. Vivid fall shades of gold-yellow and crimson start to appear at the edges of the green late-summer leavers.

Geese and gulls pass overhead well into the evening hours, calling to each other in the settling darkness with a cold northern wind at their backs.

The garden slows, enormous summer leaves of the rhubarb parting further with each frost, revealing bowed scarlet stems as they settle toward the waiting earth. Bulbs are planted beneath a blanket of fallen twigs and foliage. Flowers go to seed and the hibernating bees choose their dens for the winter.

Light reaches into the heart of the house, the low-sitting sun filtered through the shifting curtain of tree branches and leaves that shade the windows. Forgotten textures are revealed and even as the days shorten, there are more moments of golden-hour light to enjoy.

Sunsets soften and linger in the treetops, where the last bright green leaves flutter in a cool breeze. The tree canopy transforms into an almost architectural experience. Trunks and branches are revealed through colourful patches of thinning leaves, like stained glass suspended within the cathedral framework of urban forest arching overhead

All of the photos in this post were taking in September and October of 2022 for a personal project. As I followed the beautiful light and details through the autumn season, themes of transition, loss, and regeneration emerged. Portions of the work I created during this time have become a study of a particular kind of moody fall aesthetic.

This is a season as much about colourful leaves as it is a time of deep preparations; migrations or shifts to dormancy are measures taken to survive the coming winter, while the fallen leaves are beginning the process of decaying into nutrients needed for new spring growth. Without these changes and periods of hibernation, the raucous energy of spring would not be possible. Just as necessary is the abundance of summer, providing the raw materials of fall when it arrives again.

Subscribe to my newsletter to follow along with future personal work, as this seasonal study and many other projects continue to evolve.

Sunset sculpture study, Vancouver

“Increasing levels of abstraction and complexity frighten those for whom art is a means to attain a comfortable expression of calm, luxury, and delight.” – Bernar Venet

On a leisurely walk along the waterfront of Vancouver a few years ago, I noticed the sunset light illuminating the sculpture on the beach in the distance. I like the scale and resemblance of this piece to an organic form, like the rib bones of a whale. The title however refers to the precise mathematical specifications of the sculpture.

A large metal sculpture seen at sunset on the beach in Vancouver, with ships and mountains in the hazy distance.

‘217.5 Arc x 13’ by Bernar Venet, photographed in fading sunset light, Vancouver, British Columbia

I quite enjoy large, abstract sculptural works and the ways that the natural light, landscape, and details of the setting can bring new perspectives and meaning to the piece. It is wonderful to encounter an opportunity to photograph such a scene when the conditions are right for an especially atmospheric sculpture study.

Granville Island, Vancouver | Travel Photography

My favourite way to approach travel photography is as an act of discovery. Before landing in a new destination I have usually done some research about the location, but I like to arrive with no specific photos in mind. I find that I make better images when I have few preconceived ideas of what a place “is”. I am more likely to encounter an unexpected cultural or historical detail when I follow the light through a new environment. This enables me to create travel photos that are both artistic and authentic as I document an inspired experience of being there.

A photograph of morning sunlight and deep shadows in a courtyard with grey walls and yellow window trim on the surrounding building. A large sign on the building roof reads "public market" against a blue sky. A man sits alone at a long picnic table eating underneath a red and white striped awning. A pigeon and a seagull stand on tables nearby.
Early morning in a quiet market courtyard, and sunset skies over the waterfront of Granville Island, Vancouver
Vancouver travel photography of waterfront docks and Granville Island water taxi and aqua bus boats. The foreground is in blue hour shadow and the water is calm. The distant city skyline is illuminated in soft sunset light beneath a blue sky with passing clouds.

The drawback to this approach is that during shorter visits, the opportunities for good light are inherently more limited. What may be a dull scene on an overcast morning could be spectacular on a sunny afternoon, but by then my camera and I may be on to other sights. So it was especially nice on a recent short trip to Vancouver, Canada to have a couple of nights on Granville Island. This provided ample time to explore, walking to the market beneath dramatic views of the towering Vancouver cityscape.

Vancouver travel photography showing city skyscrapers framed by the steel structure of the Granville bridge, with aqua bus and water taxi docks in the near foreground. Morning sunlight passes beneath the bridge with a blue sky above.
The glittering skyscrapers of False Creek overlook Granville Bridge and waterfront docks.
Interior view of produce stalls beneath the high ceiling and lights of Granville Island market. Oranges and apples are piled in bins and shop employees stock shelves in the background.
Granville Island market stall fruit display

This is ancestral land to the xʷməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish) and Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh) and remains unceded territory. Prior to industrial development, the sandbars and shallows of the tidal environment were rich with food sources. Surrounded by distant mountains and alive with abundant biodviersity, this would have been an especially beautiful place.

The present-day Granville Island is man-made, built with material dredged from the nearby waterways. What was once an inter-tidal ecosystem is now a mix of industrial enterprises, performing arts venues, and arts and crafts studios. This urban environment lends itself to a different kind of travel photography, emphasizing the buildings and dense development of a very specific neighbourhood.

My visit in late winter meant that the sightseeing crowds had not yet arrived for the busy summer season. I enjoyed capturing a sense of calmness, even in the middle of the hustle and bustle of a city port and industrial neighbourhood. In particular, the early mornings spent wandering the quiet streets offered plenty of beautiful light and photographic inspiration.

Morning light illuminates steam and equipment at the Granville Island concrete plant
Colourful Granville Island market displays and busy shoppers, in the foreground a low interior wall catches shadows cast by nearby jars and bottles.
Beautiful light on Granville Island
Colourful bicycle racks and a restaurant exterior beneath the Granville Island bridge. Morning light casts long shadows and the streets are quiet.

Exploring the Vancouver cityscape from Granville Island

Granville Island is a great place to explore new angles for Vancouver travel photography. The surrounding views of the city are remarkable as the light changes throughout the day. Towering buildings reflect in the water below, while bridges and trees provide unique framed perspectives of the landscape beyond.

The unique curved skyscraper known as the Vancouver House with a narrow lower half framed by trees with bare winter branches. Sunrise light illuminates the very top of the building against a bright blue sky.

One Vancouver skyscraper in particular has a very interesting shape, narrowing at the bottom than at the top. I was able to photograph Vancouver House in both early morning and late afternoon light. I like how each composition gives the building a slightly different presence within the cityscape. There is subtle context provided by other elements in each composition. Meanwhile, the angle and futuristic form of the architecture remains similar in both photos.

The unique curved skyscraper known as the Vancouver House with a narrow lower half framed by houseboat and waterfront building rooflines. The west-facing side of the building is lit with late afternoon sun with a blue sky and more tall buildings beyond.

The presence of such large buildings directly reflected in the water of False Creek is also quite striking. At sunset, the walls of glass and steel catch the sunset light. At sunrise, the light casts the Vancouver city skyline into shadow, as the angular buildings appear to extend to the distant horizon.

Golden sunset light illuminates the waterfront skyscrapers overlooking False Creek in Vancouver. The steels and glass buildings are reflected in calm water as a colourful water bus passes below.

A dramatic sunrise over False Creek, with the city skyline in the distance and harbour full of small boats in the foreground. The sun peeks beneath the dark clouds and beautiful light reflects in the water.


Visit apkphotography.com to see my full archive of Granville Island and Vancouver travel photography. Many of my travel photographs are available to license here, and select images have been released as fine art travel photo prints.

Growth Revealed | Still Life Photography

There comes a time in the deep cold of every Canadian prairie winter, when the need to be in the presence of new green growth becomes a necessity. Something fresh, urgent, reassuring in its promise that spring will eventually arrive.

Back in January, I happened to receive some bulbs for growing indoors – forcing – and had a few dozen of another variety in storage in the back of the fridge.

Recalling how my mother would use beautiful glass marbles when forcing bulbs, I decided to give it a try using my collection of sea glass. With a sunny south-facing windowsill available, I arranged the glass pieces in some small vases, set the bulbs on top, and added water.

It took a couple weeks to see many signs of life. First to appear were tiny roots, and as the days have ever so gradually gotten longer, so have the leaves, finally opening to flowers.

Still life photography of spring bulbs in sea glass

Over the years I have revisited various still life photography subjects and ideas.

A recent photo workshop introduced me to some new ways of looking at still life art. I have decided to make still life studies a larger part of my photographic practice. The process is enjoyable, as it requires that I spend time with the subject, paying attention to how I can shape the light and shadows and achieve a desired effect within the composition.

My goal in this still life arrangement was to explore contrasting materials. By using glass pieces to play with layered light and colour, I was able to create textural details that compliment the natural forms. I prefer to work with available light and found that this simple still life subject photographs well in small patches of winter sunlight. Once the green leaves emerged from the bulbs, I began documenting their progress.

Still life photography of spring bulbs in sea glass
Muscari armeniacum blue and white seaglass, January 2023
Still life photography of spring bulbs in sea glass

Of particular interest were the white tendrils of roots, threading down through the sea-glass. I have more work to do in exploring their visual potential, particularly as abstracted elements in different kinds of light. These reaching forms, hidden then revealed by the glass, bring to mind the idea that some of the most important stages of growth happen unseen. This winter has been a season of quiet change as I have been integrating and internalizing the lessons of the past year. From processing tremendous loss to focusing on my creative growth, I have been sending out my own delicate roots and tapping into new possibilities through my personal work.

I have been hard at work updating my website, and you can find more of my still life photography here with a small selection of prints available in my shop.

Lessons learned, still life study

A single blue-purple Anemone coronaria flower in a textural triangular midcentury glass vase, against a dark backdrop and illuminated by a bright wedge of sunlight.⁠

I have been exploring some still life photography setup ideas this summer, and there are quite a few things I wish I’d done better in this image. The vase could be placed a little further back in the light, allowing more room for the flower’s shadow. I could have better controlled the light at the edges of the scene, especially to remove the distracting curve in the rear sweep of backdrop paper and create a sharper corner in the pointed edge of light as it falls to the far left in the frame.⁠
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These flowers have now faded in my garden and any future attempts at a more refined version of this setup will have to wait until next year.⁠
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I am glad I tried something new, and overall very happy with what I have learned from the results. In that same vein, I am embarking on an exciting photographic experience this fall, and hoping to fail spectacularly at least a few times – practice makes progress.⁠

Notes From a New Landscape

Big Souther Butte, Idaho
Big Southern Butte rises 2,300 feet from the Snake River Plain, Idaho

Last year’s marathon road-trip to California offered the welcome opportunity to experience some new atmospheric landscapes. The stark terrain of Idaho felt particularly surreal, after the rolling prairies of North Dakota and forested mountains of Montana. I have recently had a chance to sit down and edit my photos from Craters of the Moon National Monument.

Craters of the Moon National Monument & Preserve, Idaho
A small windblown juniper tree clings to a ridge of a lava flow,
at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho

The geology of the Snake River Plain in Idaho includes a fascinating array of volcanic features, and photography at Craters of the Moon was full of inspiring details.

The calderas and lava flows are the result of a periodically active volcanic rift zone. The last eruption took place around 2,000 years ago, making this a relatively ‘young’ place. Only well-adapted species can survive in the harsh conditions of the region, and it is home to several distinct ecosystems rich in plant and animal diversity.

Craters of the Moon National Monument & Preserve, Idaho
The boughs of a pine tree catch the last daylight
at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho

I found the tenacious, twisted trees to be especially striking in the soft light of dusk. Surrounded by dark scree and rubble, the bristling green growth seems almost improbable. Yet trees, shrubs, grasses and lichen are everywhere, scattered sparsely across piles of basalt. These hardy species use what little soil their roots can find in the rocky ground, and over time can establish diverse communities in unlikely places.

Craters of the Moon National Monument & Preserve, Idaho
A light dusting of snow across a lava field, at Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho

The colour palette and texture of the volcanic environment shifted throughout the day. Golden grasses and blue-green sagebrush in contrast against lava flows. Fast-moving clouds in pearlescent shades of blue and pink, disappearing over distant mountains.

I have released some of these Craters of the Moon photos as prints. Find more atmospheric landscapes and travel photography at prints.apkphotography.com!

Holding Space, Looking for Light

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” – James Baldwin⁠

Fair warning, this is not a happy post, and beyond a shared mood, the text has very little to do with the image.

It has become increasingly difficult to focus on what is right in front of me. There is a deepening, bitter edge to each day, and I know the root of it is a pain which is being experienced at personal and collective levels everywhere. So many aspects of the social contract have been broken, or worse, are proving to have never existed at all.⁠
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The events of January 6th were unsurprising but still a shock; after an hour or so of live coverage, I felt my mind retreat, curled into the fetal position where I sat, and fell asleep. I take pride in not looking away from even the most jarring images, but I’d hit my limit. On so many levels, it was a day of terrifying white nationalism and grotesque systemic racism on full display. And we can expect more of the same because the hatred espoused by racists is rooted in fear and pain, which they will continue to avoid addressing.


I don’t know about you, but I find myself marvelling at layer upon layer of heartbreak and frustration. Are we still in the midst of a pandemic, bracing for the consequences of holiday gatherings and travel? Did my neighbours have yet another string of visitors every day this week, despite lockdown rules? Have members of my local government been taking tropical vacations while telling the rest of us to stay home, in the midst of a particularly dreary Canadian winter? Has the weather been unusually warm and dry, both here in Manitoba and back in California, indicating yet another record year as climate change grinds away like a foregone conclusion?

I look for the good news. The unassuming heroes and helpers, the small signs of progress. I know that there are reasons for cautious optimism, and I am doing my best to cling to hope instead of hate. Part of that process is to occasionally let the weight of everything fall out of focus and acknowledge the pain. We’re allowed to feel hurt and angry right now, so as to better regroup, refocus and move forward, because we have a long, long way to go.

Winter Light Photography | Personal Work & Studies

As winter settles in, the sun is slipping lower and lower across the sky. During the winter solstice here in Winnipeg, Manitoba the sun barely clears the treetops. Such low-angled rays of light are magical, and to celebrate the season I’ve gathered some winter light photography snapshots from recent years…

Abstract reflection of lights in a window, with a dark sunset in the distance
Soft light falling across a deep, smooth snowdrift

I find that winter light is particularly well-suited to capturing surreal window reflections, allowing for layers of light and colour to blend with abstracted patterns. When illuminated from a low angle, snow becomes a textural wonderland of sparkling deep drifts, painted with fading light and blue shadows.

Trees and winter light

Filtering the last rays of golden hour, or catching a gilded glow in their bare branches against blue skies. Such stark winter forms are welcome whether framing sunsets or arching above city streets, as they lend shape and contrast to the winter light all day long.

Winter sunset through trees at Riding Mountain National Park, Manitoba
Late afternoon light in tree branches on a cold winter day
Line of trees in snow at sunset, Manitoba
Street lined with tall trees in winter
Sunset seen through a window, framed by snow and tree branches
Winter afternoon light and river, Winnipeg, Manitoba
Streetlamp illuminates trees in a park on a cold winter's night

Trees lend structure to the frosty winter air, and when they are illuminated just-so they compliment the bones of the landscape or urban environment, laid bare by the season.

Winter light photography and interior spaces

Casting soft, surreal shadows in unexpected places, light filtered through old glass windows is particularly irresistible to try and capture with the camera. Something as simple as an unintentional coffee cup still life might appear on a wall for a moment, painted in shadow and quick to disappear as the light shifts.

Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay
Winter light and shadowplay

Often the swaying of winter branches will make these patches of light dance and shift, like light through moving water as seen at the bottom of a pool.

Varied views of the same cityscape

Downtown Winnipeg features a mix of old and new buildings. As their facades catch and reflect the winter light throughout the day, the mood and feel of the cityscape changes too. With the early sunset, lights in windows twinkle while the dusky sky still holds onto the last of the sunlight. The moon rises over the city with its glow softened by the icy atmosphere.

Winter light in downtown Winnipeg, Manitoba
Early evening moon over downtown Winnipeg, Manitoba
Winter light in downtown Winnipeg, Manitoba
Winter light, Winnipeg, Manitoba
Winter reflection and light in downtown Winnipeg, Manitoba

The golden glow of the winter light is especially beautiful contrasted with the blue shadows and snow of the cityscape, and I couldn’t resist the reflection of a sunlit building in the sideview mirror on a winter’s afternoon.

Windows become magical glittering surfaces

Frosted with ice crystals or illuminated by gently shifting shadows. Abstract layers of light are caught and transformed inside and out, and even though the daylight hours are short, there seems to be no end to the beauty that winter can conjure with a bit of moisture or moving light on glass surfaces.

Winter window frost
Winter window frost
Winter light and glass block wall abstract
Winter light and glass block wall abstract
Light and shadow falling across a window screen
Iced-over windows of an old door, interior
Iced-over windows of an old door, interior
Winter colours through fluted-glass window
Winter colours through fluted-glass window

The two images at the bottom left of these wintery window scenes are actually shots of frost accumulation on the inside of an old set of windows. The two images in the bottom right are of the same perspective through fluted glass at different times of day.

Of course a winter landscape is made even more beautiful by the light

Rippling sheets of icy clouds and endless shades of blue. Sunsets last longer, and the blushing glow of their colours is reflected in the snow and ice. Often the sky looks like mother-of-pearl, iridescent and luminous.

Winter clouds over a snowy prairie landscape, Manitoba, Canada
Winter sunset over bridge and water, Vancouver, Canada
Pink winter sunset clouds
Winter clouds over a snowy prairie landscape, Manitoba, Canada
Vivid winter sunset on the Canadian highway, across the prairie of Manitoba and Saskatchewan
Pink winter sunset clouds over the Manitoba prairie, Canada

I love how the winter landscape is often a study in subtlety, with fence-lines and horizons blurred by blowing snow, and the sky a soft gradient veiled in lacy clouds. When the sunsets are colourful, it is always in shades made more vivid by the coolness of the surrounding scene.

Little details of domestic life are illuminated in beautiful light and shadow, turning the long winter months of staying mostly indoors into magical journeys through familiar spaces.

Something as simple as a tissue or glass of water can be transformed by the winter light. Of course the dog loves the winter sunlight too, and can often be found basking in the glow of those fleeting, low-angled rays of warmth.

Abstracted paper tissue in winter light
Prism crystal door knobs, winter light
Kitchen shadows, self-portrait in winter light
Simple wooden dinosaur blocks, winter light and shadowplay
Water glass and winter light
Glass jars on wooden surface, winter light shadowplay
Water glass, winter light
Warm winter light on a wall, red shelf and yellow bird
Yellow stool shadowplay, winter light across a wall
Warm winter sunset light filters into a quiet bedroom
A dog naps in winter sunbeams
A dog naps in winter sunbeams
Dog watching a winter sunset

All of the photos in this post are from various phone cameras. I find that winter light photography inspires snapshots as it is such a fleeting and beautiful part of every day. To see new snapshots as I share them, just head over to @photoapk on Instagram and follow me there!

Monterey Storm | Weather Photography

I didn’t set out to find such a powerful weather photography subject, it was just another blustery, spring day on the California coast. With scattered rain showers and blank overcast skies accompanying my drive south from Santa Cruz to Monterey. With glimpses of the ocean and soft, rolling hills opening to loamy and verdant valleys, the scenery along Highway 1 can be beautiful in any weather.

After turning inland through fields of strawberries and artichokes then skimming across the Elkhorn Slough with its swath of inter-tidal wetlands, the highway bends back to meet the ocean as Monterey appears ahead. Approaching the stretch of sand dunes that mark the beginning of expansive, wild beaches just South of the Salinas River, I felt the brute force of a powerful wind blowing in across the Pacific ocean. Then I noticed the clouds.

Dark storm clouds and misty falling rain over the dark water of Monterey Bay, with the coastline mountains in the distance
Fast-moving, dark and dramatic clouds sweep across Monterey Bay, California

At first just a heavy smudge on the horizon, an undefined darker grey in a sky already laced with rain and mist. These clouds quickly became distinct above the white-capped Monterey Bay; fast-moving, dark and dramatic, their undersides carved into undulating ribbons of green and blue with a curtain of heavy rain following close behind. I had my camera with me that day, and immediately pulled off the highway to a small beach access and overlook.

The air felt charged with raw energy and a few other brave souls had stopped to take in the storm as it blew quickly onshore; I managed to capture only a handful of images before the heavy rains arrived.

I will never forget the exhilaration of watching the strange sky above, and the speed with which the entire system passed from sea to land was truly incredible. Glad to get whatever photos I could of this storm, I take them as proof that bad weather makes for excellent landscape photography, and the best camera is the one you have with you (though it doesn’t hurt to carry some of your better gear around from time to time). This surreal cloudscape scene is included in my collection of sky and cloud photo prints, featuring a variety of dramatic clouds and abstract skies.

Liquid Light | Abstract Art Photography

Years ago the tonal possibilities of black and white film taught me to watch for interesting abstractions of light and texture. As my style and technique has evolved, a strong love of abstract art photography has remained a creative constant in my personal work.

Abstract black and white art photography image of rippling light through shallow water
Liquid light, black & white

While on a walk through the coastal forest of Mendocino County in California, I came upon a quietly running clear stream. Sunlight filtered through the trees above, illuminating the rippling water as it passed over smooth, multicoloured stones. Ribbons of light shimmered across the shadowy stream-bed. I only shot two frames of this spot, close and abstracted in black and white to emphasize the tone and texture of the contrasting liquid and hard rocky surfaces. A fluid moment in time brought to life by the motion of water and light.

Find my currently available black and white abstract art photo prints here; please inquire for custom sizes and styles.