danielbaylis.ca

Greetings Earthlings! It’s another Monday. That means another opportunity to wear your favorite Monday outfit! That purple corduroy suit looks smashing on you.

So last week I wrote about the roadblock I came across in my marathon training. I was experiencing some unexpected knee pain. Well the situation is not fully remedied (there is still some tightness/tension in my knee when running), but it has been manageable. I haven’t given up hope yet. Still got my eye on Philadelphia for the November 21 Marathon.

Stay tuned.

SEEING THE WORLD

On Saturday I had a lovely “unplugged” day. Once a week I make a point to shut down my computer, to unplug from the matrix. I made myself breakfast, finished a novel, and then took a lovely stroll around the Plateau (my Montreal neighborhood). I also headed down to the World Press Photo Exhibition, which highlights the best photojournalism from across the globe.

The photos were raw and captivating, each granting access to a slice of a greater narrative. There was Eugene Richard’s shocking picture of an American soldier who lost 40 percent of his brain when his army truck was hit by a grenade in central Iraq. Or the image of a crumbled giraffe, killed by drought, laying dead in a dry river bed in northeastern Kenya, captured by Italian photographer Stefan De Luigi. There were bodies stack upon each other in Haiti, the sadness in the eyes of a young anorexic Dutch man, the bloody violence of drug trading in Guinea-Bissau – these images wet my eyes, and brought me out of my comfy, privileged world.

Other photos elicited more amicable emotions, such Craig Golding’s work at the Master’s Games. The image of the grinning elderly man in a Speedo after his swimming race left me inspired. I wish to be that man, both the swimmer and the photographer.

I wish to be telling stories.

SEEING MY WORLD

When I was finished with the exhibit, I strolled back home, observing people in that oddly contemplative way that comes only when one has been challenged out of his or her bubble, and encouraged to see a greater framework. It is a space where everything can seem captivatingly beautiful, yet oddly meaningless. It’s a mood of objectivity, yet sentimentality.

At home I made myself tea, put on some Lucinda Williams and sorted through old photographs of my own. The act of flipping through albums was delightfully wistful, while also bitingly bittersweet. Out of one album tumbled a grainy shot of an old lover and I posing amorously in a photo booth. It was my birthday. Another image featured my Grandmother and me. It was the last Christmas before she died. She looked frail. Other pictures featured me as a treeplanter, as a student, as a musician, as an awkward teenager, as a boy missing his front tooth. Each photo, evidence of human beings I once was.

The photograph is a mighty powerful storyteller.

ITCHY FEET

Lately, I’ve been craving a voyage. And this week “the photograph” not only enabled me to voyage to other countries in the world, but also back in time. I was reminded of the capacity of the photo to tell stories, both international and personal. I have been inspired (again) to go into the world and to the share stories of my fellow humans and myself.

Currently, some big decisions are being made about what the next few years will look like for Mr. Daniel Baylis. And I think these decisions will result in a giant leap out of my current paradigm, and into worldly explorations. My feet are itchy. I promise to take photographs.

Stay tuned.

xoxo

Daniel

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Did I ever tell you about the time I lived in the woods?

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