Friday, July 31, 2009
my old neighbourhood
I miss it... my front door that is.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
levi.
I made this in Montréal under the guidance of a producer and the very professional help of Toby the sound guru. As with anything worth doing, it had a certain about of pain and ego bruising. If I did my job right, as editor and camera guy, I shouldn't have to explain this little short documentary.
I embedded this video from whoweare.ca which is a fine little site.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
jamaican food for your mouth hole.
While walking around Commercial drive and seeking food stuffs, I stepped into a Jamaican restaurant along with French Panic and my sister in law. It seemed familiar and as I was eating delicious jerk chicken I realized why. I had seen it before along with an excellent story.
And here it is, embedded from whoweare.ca which is where two of my little projects are also posted.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
sour milk.
Still it would be a shame to not pass it along.
And that is indeed Oscar nominated actor John C Reilly.
Truly a genius.
things I like about montréal - number 4

In the midst of Mile End is a cute little street only available to the non-car people… like French Panic and myself.
It is a short street with people’s houses abutting it on both sides in that very Montréal sort of way. Graffiti, most of it very creative, decorates these walls, which I’m sure sort of pisses off the home owners. I like to think I wouldn’t mind if it was my house, cause it wouldn’t matter. Like having a grudge match with the ocean, anger towards street artists has exactly zero effect.

I have no idea why it is named Groll, or what Groll even means. I’m not going to bother trying to find out either.
Every time we walk near Groll to go anywhere, I insist on walking down it… and then down the alleys that connect to it. It makes me smile, and that is some special street.
I’m going to miss you, Groll street.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
things I like about montréal - number 3
I grew up reading graphic novels. Except they were called comics back then and despite the fact that for me they were always in French, it still annoyed my mother who thought that literature was only that which had no pictures.
But I remained loyal to my heros Tintin, and Asterix, and happily spent my summers at the cabin absorbing countless short graphic novels of adventure.
I was so happy to find that one short block away from my little Montréal home was a book store/publisher dedicated to the graphic novel. It even has books with no pictures in them, but I still like the ‘comics’ best.

Although I can’t afford to buy everything in the store, it is where I shop for gifts and where I like to spend an hour on the way home from a café.
I will miss browsing your many books, Drawn and Quarterly.