New to the city of Vancouver, two friends and I were curious about the residents and "characters" of the east end of the city. What a better way to explore our curiosity than to get a job driving cab, night shift in the east end? I would carry my camera and photograph the customers, I thought.
What a learning experience that was. After about six weeks of attempting to convince my customers that I was an artist and not a spy for the police or the welfare department, I decided it was too much and I put my camera down. Over the years I have re-visited these images and the writings by my two friends who ventured into this experience with me.
In putting this series together, unfortunately the writings of Richard (aka 'Fangz') LeBeau have disappeared and if they ever resurface they will be included at a future date. Fangz went on to become a French-English translator.
William (aka 'The Bear' ) Donoghue's words brilliantly capture our visceral experience. The Bear went on to become a professor and teach at Emerson College in Boston.
What a learning experience that was. After about six weeks of attempting to convince my customers that I was an artist and not a spy for the police or the welfare department, I decided it was too much and I put my camera down. Over the years I have re-visited these images and the writings by my two friends who ventured into this experience with me.
In putting this series together, unfortunately the writings of Richard (aka 'Fangz') LeBeau have disappeared and if they ever resurface they will be included at a future date. Fangz went on to become a French-English translator.
William (aka 'The Bear' ) Donoghue's words brilliantly capture our visceral experience. The Bear went on to become a professor and teach at Emerson College in Boston.
The city groans under its own weight, hot and tired, leaning into its corners, melting chaotic and overworked it lies splayed out like refuse strewn along the edge of the Pacific rotting in a bath of hot air and salt. You go out alone and get drunk and come home, but you never come home alone because it always comes home with you. wm._donoghue
The resonant lights electric blowing neon flowsy and out of focus reflect off the pawnshop windows onto the windshield. At a light the tire rubber pants, waiting in the heat, sags into the pavement, settling, glittering black car ahead waiting, a false emotion, a lie. wm. donoghue
A rape of space in soft black vinyl, dash lights and music. Your space intimate and placid connected out through radio waves to every telephone in the city. A space vibrant but fragile and temporary and raped by choice as the door opens. wm. donoghue
He dry falls staggers over a tricycle on the walk pulls himself up and comes on, bounces off the picket fence ripping his jacket, one shoe untied and gets in the car to go out on the town. wm. donoghue