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It pleases me to no end to be able to present you with some of photographs taken as I documented the momentous day upon which Corben and I officially met -- Sunday, July 19, 1998. Corben and I arranged to rendezvous around noon that day, and this is a photo of her shortly after we first met. You see Corben here holding up a sign I had to create for this meeting. As the result of not being able to answer one of her trivia questions, I was required to create a large sign out of tacky neon bristolboard (bright green) proclaiming Corben's greatness, preferably to my own deprecation. Corben now owns the sign -- it will be hanging in her residence room this fall. |
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This next photo is set in Strathcona park, which was where we spent most of our day on a picnic. We encountered the strangest squirrel (if you know anything about me, you know that squirrels count among my few mortal enemies) when we started to unpack -- it was extremely friendly and not at all shy about whoring itself to us for food. Eventually we threw berries at it and it went away. |
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Corben pointed out that I took an awful lot of photos of her when she saw this roll developed. Corben and the squirrel could both equally pass as the subject of this picture, but I am quick to clarify that Corben, as both good company and the focus of photographs, is fun and beautiful, and the squirrel was actually a little annoying after awhile. |
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Corben amidst our lunch of cherries, blueberries, and raspberries, as well as some delightful pastries from the Boko Bakery. Notice also my ubiquitous briefcase and caffeinated beverage. |
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The squirrel, eating one of the raspberries I threw. |
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In this picture, Corben is reading a letter I'd snagged from work. For some reason, occasionally extremely crazy people will send letters to government research centres just like mine, and demand some concrete answers about their particular maladies, gripes, and obsessions. I think this picture captures the moment quite well -- she looks as perplexed as I did when I read it. I'll provide the text of this letter later on. |
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We sat under this very tree -- I highly doubt if you could ever find a nicer one. |
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Quite often Corben would assemble her camera and take pictures of whatever interested her, like the luscious landscape of the park, seagulls, the squirrel, and the spectacle of foolish boaters futilely combatting the modest rapids of the Rideau River. I tended to take pictures of Corben taking other pictures. |
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As we made our way out of the park, after having spent a good five hours relaxing and talking and getting to truly know one another better, Corben and I continued to expose film to light in the hopes of capturing some of the splendour of this amazing park. I truly adore Strathcona park -- if you live in Ottawa, or will ever be in Ottawa, make this one of your destinations. There are no mounties, and no t-shirts with beavers on them, and there are absolutely no fascinating points of interest such as to enthrall tourists of all ages, but those are not the things good vacations -- and beautiful days -- are actually made of at all. Notice the happy face spray painted onto the tree. |
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I'm not unyielding when it comes to graffiti. I've seen some amazing artwork in my day. But you should be surgically deprived of at least one lifetime if you are incapable of at least putting some thought into what you deface a nice park with. |
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I like fountains. |
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I mean, I really like fountains -- and this is an especially delightful one. I do not know anything about the woman in the background, but she has the whitest shoes I've ever seen. |
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This is a pile of bricks Corben and I encountered on our way home. It is significant because she was telling me of an intelligence test she took with her classmates in grade school, and how one of the questions was "How many practical uses can you think of for a brick? Ten? Five? Or one?" and in keeping with her uncanny talent for clarity of thought, Corben was the only person who answered "one," and consequently she was also the only person to get that question right. I, ho wever, was outraged, because I think the question was silly and ambiguous, and if asked to me would stifle my creative genius. I for one can think of many practical uses for a brick, even if the intended use is obvious. How many practical uses for a brick can you think of? |