I was born in Ottawa, Canada, and brought up in Kingston and Toronto. I attended Humber College, studying advertising and graphic design. After college, I worked in retail advertising for 15 years at agencies in Toronto including Collier & Park and Typesettra. When desktop publishing took over, I traded in my shiny shoes for work boots and went outdoors to work in renovation and landscaping in Canada and the US.
Now back in Toronto, I work in social services, ensuring that vulnerable people in our community have a safe and comfortable living environment. But, I’m surrounded by a lot of concrete, so when I have time off, I head for the hills, or lakes, or any wild place where I can be surrounded by nature. And, as well as my fishing rod, my camera is always there.
In the city, I chase adrenaline where I can find it. I commute to work on a big, fast motorbike: sometimes I wish I lived further from my workplace because the ride doesn’t last long enough! I found friends who love the same kind of rush: skydiving, whitewater rafting, horseback riding, anything that gets my heart racing I’m there and will be at the front of the line!
I don’t need to be moving all the time: I know how to stop and take in the beauty of the world around me and the night sky above me. I’m really happy drifting in my kayak, fishing line trailing in the water, or gazing through my telescope, trying to capture the dazzling detail of the moon.
Landscape photography forms the basis of my environmental activism: I am particularly concerned about the fate of Canada's Arctic icescapes and Ontario's Great Lakes, which comprise a large percentage of the world's fresh water supply.
My summers are spent exploring the grandeur of south and central Ontario. I've explored Canoe Lake in Algonquin Park, following in the footsteps of Tom Thomson, my favourite painter. The southwest corner of the park and its surrounding area, including Oxtongue Lake and River and the spectacular Ragged Falls, were painted often by Thomson and his brothers in the Group of Seven. To the east, at Mazinaw Lake, the majestic rock on the south shore is decorated with red pictographs along the water line, painted to record the sacred stories the indigenous peoples of the area needed to share with each other. I heard the voice of Manitou, speaking through the water rushing in and out of the fissures in the rock. In 2015, I dipped my kayak paddle in Lake Superior, visiting the Sleeping Giant and climbing the magnificent Chimney. I've climbed the Crack at Killarney, surprising a foraging bear on the way, and basked on the striped rocks of Franklin Island, near Parry Sound. Wherever I find myself in this diverse province, I'm grateful for the chance to record its beauty and capture sights that might soon disappear.
Images are powerful and we need powerful action before it’s too late. Photographs are a crucial tool in alerting the world to its imminent destruction.