...Caturday. She who knows how to find the comfiest, warmest spaces.

One wouldn’t generally put photography up there on the list of ‘’high-risk’’ professions or pastimes, but I can now say from personal experience that a camera can indeed do physical damage to a person.

Backpedalling one week : one sunny morning, I was at the park with the dogs, throwing a ball for them. I saw a woman entering the park and grabbed both dogs’ collars before they saw this person, because I knew that Soleil and Arwen would think it was our beloved neighbour, who often stops by the park when she sees us there, and would want to rush over and greet her. However this woman entering the park was not anyone we knew, and certainly wouldn’t welcome or expect two Labradors cannonballing her and her yoga mat. I was ready for them when they lunged forward, but they are simply so strong and powerful that they pulled me over. I managed to restrain them by the simple fact of maintaining a death grip on the collars, and becoming a dead weight on the ground, but when I fell, I landed on my camera, which I had been carrying around my neck, crosswise.

This camera is a little red plastic Nikon SLR, light and cheap; it’s one I take out for quick snaps when I go for a run or a dog walk. But it’s made of pretty substantial stuff, because of the two of us – me and the camera – it was yours truly who came out of the collision more damaged.

Cracked ribs. This is the fourth time, thanks to a combination of prior cycling accidents and osteopenia. Yep, that’s me, Humpty freaking Dumpty.

I’ve spent the past week remembering (the hard way) that with this particular injury   Every.   Single. Thing  you do hurts. Shifting gears in the Jeep : all but impossible. Turning over in bed : excruciating. Breathing : painful and overrated. Sleeping : what’s that?

Being my stubborn self, I tried to ignore/get over it, but in the wake of several days of constant pain and nearly zero sleep, I finally submitted to a visit to the nursing station. In exchange for promising to get a chest x-ray done, I have acquired an ample supply of pain relief, and I am now a much less angry person than I have been over the past week.

So, photographer friends, let this be a life lesson for you. The camera is indeed a mighty weapon, though perhaps not in the sense you’d most expect!

Another fun fact :  a dog’s bound is much, much worse than its bite…

Oh, but in the midst of all of this, it hasn’t been an entirely shitty week. I received an email from a major Canadian magazine to tell me a photo I’d submitted in a contest will be published in the winter issue (it didn’t win, but still! And it’s of the dogs!). And I completed my first alla prima painting, and it was good! And I got my first real word-of-mouth commission for a drawing. And I did portrait sessions for two very lovely families, who actually paid me to take their pictures. So take that, camera karma!

Just never fully trust a red Nikon, ok?

“Life is indeed colourful. We can feel in the pink one day, with our bank balances comfortably in the black, and the grass seemingly no greener on the other side of the fence. Then out of the blue, something tiresome happens that makes us see red, turn ashen white, even purple with rage. Maybe controlling our varying emotions is just 'colour management' by another name.” 

-Alex Morritt, Impromptu Scribe