Broken Clocks :: " Each image constitutes an aesthetic sensitivity approach that is both, time intimate and social. In this work, I’m trying to come to terms with how I honestly see and depict women's identity.
In the Broken Clocks series, colours and lights are woven into our minds for a self-examination of what we consider to be essential and true. Are my pictures romanticized? Sexualized? Why do I see women in this way?
For me, photography is as much about the way I respond to the subject as it is about the subject itself. I feel that my background in fine art photography serves me to creating portraits that are rich in detail and texture, without losing interest in the subject. "
Bio: ThierryJ.Benson was born in Haiti, but raised in Canada. Finding his passion in the arts, he studied in fine art photography at Concordia University as well commercial photography at Dawson College in Montreal. His focus is on shooting intimate life moments - depicting an entire story with only one picture. Currently living in Montreal, he often travels to meet new people and discover places for inspiration.
Dr. David says he's over it: price tags put on parking spaces, mini coopers at thirteen grand, bras for a buck or two hanging off of swingset stands.
The Great Glebe is on sale. Ambam and Jojo join Wookie for early strolls through pedestrian traffic down uptight streets into huckster herds galore, howling "what a haggle, what a steal!" for four dollar dogs hot off the grill and ritzy serves of lemoned water - that's another toonie or two to go. the bank's an all in a day type deal this morn - feisty moods, sweaty and sweet, mr. alan's shopping in the hood.
free-thinking royals on fifth ave. balancing civic expression and freedom of speech with signs that read :: [ "No matter where you're from, you're welcome in Canada," ] ... for $25. Inclusion ain't cheap. bourgeoisie at a price - fedoras for fifty bones - "Google it, you'll see what I mean," they say, to dappers on the streets of Bytown who wiggle through dress codes for cheaper than this. there's a Biltmore at home, anyways. on second ave. "it costs $0.50," for the book, but "$0.25" is the highest she can go - the eyes roll over, a sigh lights the air and a muttered "fine" fills the merchant's mouth. it's just the beginning of the day. a stroll turns into storm on clemow ave. "those books are one dollar," barks the elderly and so "thank you" I reply, most patient as possible, uninterested in her three copies of angels & demons, seeking some Scott instead. "Didn't you take one?" the old one demands in motivating language and peeking into my pockets, // literal diplomacy at its finest for an accused book thief. And so a head tilt protrudes and with disbelief, a "come on" is blurted out and silence ensues.
it's nine in the morning and my city's up on hangers - posters from Warsaw - what is their story? "So like, my sister, went on like, this theatre exchange kind of thing or whatever in Poland a couple of years ago and brought these back. Want 'em?" contemplating their being put to good use, and with neighbours stepping on these Reeboks, toothless walks by an Ashbury sweater and recounts Peter puking in the toilet and passing out with his pants down, an unfit recap for the girls. a glare is shared, but it means nothing around here. the Great Glebe Garage Sale:
where grandiloquent is a metaphor for loose change.
Images courtesy of Lukasz Lukaszek
I shop differently than I used to. I also don't pay for many things anymore. I guess knowing of the incredible treasures to be found in the garbage can lead to that real quick.
I went through a phase once of spending lots of money on wellness shit and organic food. I was making a fair bit of money during this time so it worked. Then life happened, I became frugal (raiding clearance sections ayyy), and began to spend less and less. Later I spent all my money on yoga and travel. Money became a limited resource. Lucky for me, some great souls spoke of dumpster diving in a way that gave me the confidence to try it. And so I did, and my first night at it I pulled out three full boxes of organic produce in seconds (high score yo). It’s kind of a super power. Just last night I was walking down Bronson and found a great Columbia sleeping bag in some sidewalk garbage bin which I then slept in that same night
“That's nice”, you say. Indeed it is. Not worrying about money as much has done wonders. Being able to travel almost money-less was a magical experience. I don’t pay for food very often anymore (at least when I have time to cook, lately that’s been a challenge). My line of work in food waste recovery and redistribution on campuses helps out a fair bit when times get tough, but that aside, I know the ways.
Consider this: walking down the produce section, you notice many a blemish on assorted sections of produce. People seem to be averse to said blemishes, so there is a fair expectation that they may be thrown away. So, all those apples and tomatoes are basically garbage that hasn’t made its way to the compactor yet. But wait! See all those other shiny pristine pieces of granny smiths about? Imagine a third or so will be tossed, too. Now stop imagining and understand that a third of those grannies (or some other significant amount) will be tossed as well. Likewise for all the other produce. And those cosmetics. And the packaged food items. And meat and dairy and bread. Basically, a lot of it will end up in the garbage, compacted or recoverable in the bags in the dumpster (heheh).
This is what I see in grocery stores. I see inevitable waste (I see other things, too). And then I go around back when the sun sets and it’s all right there. And I can have it. Only this time I don’t have to pay for it. And I get a workout out of it (diving is quite laborious, let me tell you). It's a predictable series of events happening every day in almost every food selling establishment. And it makes me gag. I don’t need that many containers of yogurt, or 20 different bottles of assorted supplements and herb powders in capsule form. Or eye shadow. A bunch of kale, some root veggies and a loaf of bread will do me well. Think broccoli is scary? Imagine having to decide whether to drag two dozen heads back home or take one and accept that it will be wasted. You get over it pretty quick though; you’d be dead before you can carry that much home.
Maybe they should give it away or something. Maybe to their employees. Could be a thing to try.
// image by Rohit Anand