The past few days in Washington have been (predictably) busy. We've visited museums, walked past the White House, photographed the cherry blossoms, took a tour of the Capitol Building, visited Arlington cemetery, and sampled the "true heart" of America. But this portion of the trip is winding down (tonight is our last night in the city), tomorrow we're off to New York.

I just read Sarah's blog post about our upcoming trip to Washington DC and New York, and let me tell you that all it has done has made me even more anxious to leave tomorrow. I still have to finish packing (which will have to wait until later this evening) as I am still finishing up some work projects. Need to make sure that there will be content posted to the City blog while I'm away (and thanks to the wonder of technology I can even moderate any comments that might come in on my iPhone. But not too much. I will be on vacation after all).

Sarah had lots of pictures to post from her last trip to New York, alas, I have not been even really visited the States at all (unless you can count a layover in the Miami airport) so I have no pictures to share. But there will be plenty of photos to share when I get back. While we're in Washington the cherry blossom festival will be on, and although we will leave before the blooms peak, I am really hopeful that there will be at least some flowering while we are there.




Last year I didn't see any blooms in Edmonton until late in May. And while that might be true to the saying, April showers bring May flowers, my fingers are crossed that while visiting Washington and New York that the blossoms might come out a little bit earlier than expected. But I can't force nature to bend to my will, so I'm not getting my hopes up too high.

The one thing about this spring break trip that I am both eagerly anticipating and not looking forward to is all the walking I will be doing. Winter does not involve a heavy amount of walking for me and my cold from the past week and a half weakened my spirit so that I was inclined to take the train whenever I needed to go to the office (okay that and the train is so convenient). I have yet to resume my many kilometre daily constitutional and I fear that after the first day my proverbial dogs might be so weak that they cannot even bark.




But a good night's rest and all will be well. My camera will give me the courage to go on. 

I'm getting a bit anxious for my upcoming trip to Washington and New York at the end of the week and as a result I can't sleep. Blog post to the rescue.

Tonight I went to the 23rd Mayor's Celebration of the Arts at the Winspear. I didn't have any particular reason to go, I hadn't really paid attention to the nominees and I hadn't seen any information about the performance program. But a colleague invited me last week and I figured that I could use one night out this week and a night out supporting the arts would be a good idea.

I wasn't attending the reception prior to the event so I made plans to meet up with my colleague and her band of friends who were also coming along. The recent cold snap meant that I was less inclined to pull out one of my spring dresses to wear to the event, so instead I pulled out a reliable black dress to wear with patterned stockings and a little black shrug. The house is a complete mess right now (there is a shelf that is 2/3 way assembled lying on the living room floor) so I couldn't find a spot that would allow for a decent self-portrait. This shot looking down was about all I could manage.


I left the hall briefly while a standup comedian took the stage, and from the little that I managed to see and hear from the monitors outside his brand of humour was not exactly my style. While I can't say that I was blown away by any of the performances, (although I did like the piano, violin and clarinet trio that was first up), I am glad that I went. I saw quite a few familiar faces and also got to enjoy a night out in Edmonton that was celebrating the arts community. I think that will be a good send off before I head to New York. Edmonton might seem a little bit less depressing if the memory of all of these varied artists are fresh in my mind.


Perhaps one of the best thing of all about this event is that when it wrapped up I was able to hop on the train and only a few minutes later I was at home. No worry or fuss about traffic or icy roads, just a short wait with my friends (all who also live on the LRT line) on the platform where we shared our opinions about the event (my particular beef was with the exactness of dance choreography, my few years in Irish dancing having burned into my brain that everyone must be on the same beat) before hopping on the train for the short ride home.

I'm still familiarizing myself with the quietness of the street where I live. I used to walk this way to work for nearly a year but it was always at the beginning and end of the business day. When coming home late at night I would often hurry down this stretch, wishing I could stop and linger but feeling the pressure to just speed through the last final blocks until I got home. But now I live on this street and when I'm heading back to my apartment I don't feel so guilty stopping to linger to photograph the church across the street. Again, probably a good move before taking off to New York for what I hope will be a photographic orgy. It's good to keep in mind that Edmonton will have its fair share of photographic opportunities waiting for me when I return. Photographic opportunities that might translate into art that might one day be celebrated (locally).

Almost exactly a year ago Tom and I decided to go for an evening stroll on Whyte Avenue.


It was unsually warm for that time of year, so warm in fact, that after a period of taking photos of the evening traffic (both vehicular and pedestrian), we took in our first patio of the season. It was a particularly lovely evening, we didn't talk much, just sort of wandered and took photographs of whatever caught our fancy.


I think we were both in the mood for a similar type of outing this past Sunday. I was hesitant to leave the house, as I was feeling the ill effects of this spring cold, but the gentleman convinced me that some fresh air might do me some good. And with that encouragement I left the house to meet Tom across the river to relive our Whyte Avenue photographic excursion albeit in the daylight. I am pleased to report that even in sickness I managed to reach the Chapters bookstore in only twenty minutes.

When Tom arrived we wandered off aimlessly with our cameras in hand. We ended up taking a rather circuitous route, first heading off a block or two from Whyte to photograph the bakery near Calgary Trail and then roaming a block or two north through residential streets and the theatre district.


The nice thing about these random strolls in familiar places is that you're on the lookout for less familiar sights. When I'm not as concerned about taking in the entire scene I pay a little more attention to the details that might otherwise go unnoticed.


I'm sure others have experienced the beauty of a back alley before... or the the perfection of a reflection in a puddle.


This of course sounds overly sentimental, but the sniffling and sinus congestion of the weekend still persists and is sort of acting as a temporary shield against cynicism. I'm not complaining. I'd rather be cheerful while I'm sick rather than wallowing in misery. The wallowing in misery is something I reserve for when there are people within hearing distance.

Last night I fully intended to work on the portfolio side of raffaellaloro.com, which I've refreshed with a simple tumblr site. But by the time I wrapped up my work projects around 7, the sun had started to go down and I really wasn't much in the mood for an evening of extended computer work.


As it was, I ended up taking some pictures of the view from my apartment, both the east facing view that overlooks the gas station and always busy 109th Street and the view north that looks in to the apartments of the neighbouring building.



This morning I woke up with a bit of a horrid spring cold, dampening my enthusiasm for the weekend. I had no meetings today so I was working from home, but eventually by mid-afternoon I was too beat to continue. I stumbled to the grocery store to get some supplies and once outside I winced at how nice the weather was. It would have been perfect for an extended stroll, except I might have made it halfway across the bridge before wanting and needing to turn around.


So, at home I've remained for the rest of the night. I've made no additional headway with my website, I've not accomplished any additional organization of the apartment. Those tasks remain in the queue for another day. I make no promises or predictions that day will be tomorrow.

Although it may seem a bit like all I do during my free time is eat out and go see movies, my recent cinematic excursions are really not all that frequent. I followed up last week's film, Last Train Home with The Last Station, which although featuring rail travel was considerably different in theme but still brought me to tears in the darkened theatre.

The movie (this time accompanied by miss sarah) was preceded with dinner. Eats were procured at local establishment Phobulous, which was selected more for its convenient location directly across from the Garneau Theatre.
 

I don't dislike Phobulous, the decor is pleasant and the service decent (although the waitress did not appreciate my attempts to pronounce the items on the menu). However, when I first arrived the place smelled disturbingly of chlorine, almost overpoweringly so. But the food arrived quickly and really there's not much you can do to screw up a rice vermicelli bowl. Plus it is right across from the theatre, so once we were finished all we had to do was walk over and buy our tickets (no line that night), all with time to spare.

I like the simplicity of a night out at the Garneau. It's a quick jaunt across the bridge, so if I wanted to I could make up my mind last minute to see a show and walk over without having to coordinate transportation. It's never too fussy there. The films are generally ones that I wouldn't be able to see in other theatres and I'm usually delighted by the varying styles of cinematography and the lack of huge explosions onscreen. Plus, they don't judge when you pay almost entirely in dimes.

and yes, that's what I did.

Thursday night consisted of a night at the cinema, preceded of course by dinner at Padmanadi (which my chum Leanne described to me as the tasty fake meat place). How I had never been to this particular restaurant in the three and a half years I have been living here I am not sure. Based on the deliciousness of the dishes that we ordered I am sure to return.

We could all learn a thing or two from Donald Draper.

And by that I don't mean how to look good in a suit while drinking scotch, womanizing, or stealing another man's identity. Nor do I mean to infer that we should also learn a thing of two from the actor playing Don Draper, that being how to be devilishly handsome, grow a five o'clock beard, or be cast to play characters who are so beautiful that they live in a bubble and nothing bad can ever happen to them (but that wouldn't be so a bad lesson to learn). No, it's much simpler than that. We could all learn how to sell an idea like Don Draper.

I started watching MadMen at the end of the first season. I had been reading good reviews of the show, but not having cable I didn't check it out until I was able to download the full season. Like so many others, I was drawn in by the impressive attention to detail in the set and costumes, but also by the nuanced characterization and excellent narrative. The final episode stuck with me long after I watched it, particularly this scene (I'd embed the clip but that functionality has been disabled... curses AMC) which I used as part of a school presentation about advertising and myth a few months later.

In the scene, Don Draper pitches the concept of the 'Carousel' for an updated slide projector to the folks at Kodak. When representatives from Kodak express their concern about how to advertise yet another projector with the same basic technology, Don responds, "...technology is a glittering lure, but there's the rare occasion when the public can be engaged at a level beyond flash, when they have a sentimental bond with the product."

I still have a copy of the presentation where I referenced this scene. This was the basic introduction I wrote.

Each day we are bombarded with ads, each trying to sell us something. We are constantly persuaded to buy something, be it a physical object or an idea. Ads appeal to our senses, we are attracted visually, emotionally, or intellectually.

Often, the most successful ads are the ones that allow us to experience connection on all of these levels. Not only are we appealed to aesthetically, but we also develop some sort of intangible relationship with the product. In some cases this bond we form is obvious, we buy into the platform of a political party and give them our vote. At other times this bond is less apparent, however no less powerful.

In my particular role as a very civil servant supporting communications, I suppose in a way I'm in the business of trying to get people to buy into ideas (and I use the terms buy and sell in a very loose fashion). Sometimes these are ideas that have been put forward by the general public, other times they are the directive of council, other times they are the recommendations from various branches of the municipal government. We present these ideas in a variety of ways - through face to face conversations, traditional media, online media - all with varying levels of effectiveness. Success comes when the ideas we share resonate with the individual. They care about the "product" and buy into the idea through their participation. For example, if a city wants to shift to more sustainable transportation modes, they might put up billboards, place ads, hold public information meetings informing people on the types of services the city provides to help the public to achieve that goal. When someone buys into that idea of increasing sustainable transportation they might drive less, walk more, ride a bicycle or take transit, all because something resonated with them, be it the desire to save money, a wish to contribute less to global warming, or the services provided just happen to be more convenient than the whatever they were using before.

Although I'm keenly interested on the outcomes of an idea, I'm also focused on how we share ideas. Sometimes I feel like I'm a between a rock and a hard place, pushing online communication tools while at the same time saying what is most important is the message we share. But the the tool and message are intrinsically linked in my world (flashes of Marshall McLuhan here), and when we are encouraging people to use new tools it can be hard not to be caught up in all of the technological glitter.

But then I see ads like this recent one from Google...




I marvel at the effectiveness of this ad. In fifty-two seconds it manages to showcase all of these things that people might use the Google search engine for - and it does so in a simple yet striking narrative. What's also amazing is the tool they use to tell the story is also what they are trying to promote.

But without getting too complex in my analysis of tools promoting themselves, instead I want to focus on what I find most brilliant about the Google ad and Don Draper's Carousel pitch. Both rely heavily on a narrative - telling a story that resonates with an audience, so much so that they will want to use that product.

At work I have my own product that I'm trying to pitch... which is to use the various social media channels to share information about the City's programs and projects. But the use of these tools are inherent with their own complexities - How do we keep things simple for residents to find information? When do the lines blur between personal and professional networks? When do we use informal channels and when do we use official ones? What sort of content do we share? What tool is right for what purpose?


And so I endeavour to try to help answer these questions, not just through policy documents but also through presentations that provide a succinct overview of these complex issues as well as encourage people to buy into the idea of these new tools. I would like to see more people sharing stories of their projects on the City blog, more groups excited about the establishing subtle connections between people and programs through the sharing of photos and videos, more opportunity to see day-to-day activity in the City about how we're working towards our strategic goals.


And to accomplish all this I'm try to tell a little story about my project. I'm trying to establish a narrative. I'm hoping to establish context about what it means for an employee to be contributing to online commentary both in their personal and professional capacities.


I hope to end up at a point where the technology is invisible. Instead of being excited about the tools, instead we will concentrate on what is being said. What will matter is not that the City has a blog, but rather that you learned about fifteen different community groups who are leading projects in their neighbourhoods to start local gardens, hold celebrations to celebrate the diversity and talent of their neighbours, or work together to renovate a heritage building to turn into a multi-purpose community centre for meetings, art or dance classes, etc, etc etc. What will matter is not the City has a facebook account, but that you might find out about an important public meeting that is coming up and you could RSVP there and share that information with your entire network of friends. What will matter is not the City has a Flickr or YouTube account, but that you might discover information about programs that you were unaware of, you might use those photos or videos in your own presentations, emailing to friends who were unable to attend an event. What will come out of this is that narrative I'm so fond of. The story of our city, created by our collective contributions.

Surely the tool is important, but it should be more of the silent partner in our conversations.

Now that I've moved it's only a few minutes farther to walk to work, but the extra couple blocks are enough that I'd rather take the train. In the afternoon I will walk from work and I don't notice the added time. I think the real reason why I don't like to walk to work is that I would have to spend some time looking at my old apartment building and I might feel a bit confused that I'm walking home rather than to work. So, for the meantime, when I will continue to take the train, at least until spring when I would prefer to be out in the open air. Right now I'm just establishing a new routine.

On Friday I went to the AGA for a documentary about Yousuf Karsh with Tom and Sarah. Right now the gallery has a fantastic exhibit of selected portraits taken by Karsh. The exhibit is absolutely inspiring, since Karsh was a master of portraiture and so many of the images on display are those of iconic status.



The documentary left me feeling two ways... one, was I felt inspired to shoot more portraits (particularly in bw and perhaps even in film), two, I felt slightly guilty about my rather obsession with documenting the boring and mundane bits of my life photographically. Do all my photos have less value because I take so many of them?

I have about 18 applications on my iPhone that have something to do with photography. Some might say that I have a bit of an addiction. So many were free though, but the ones I use most frequently I paid for (about six of the 18). However, tis a purchase I can justify for of the things I use my iPhone, photography is pretty much the top of the list. But the photos that I do take with the iPhone are the sort of Seinfelds of photography, that is, photos about nothing. But there's something appealing about that. I don't mind the throwaway nature of some of the images. It's sort of like doodles in a margin, sometimes they're worth something and sometimes they're not.

My last obsession was an app called Shake-It-Photo that turned pictures into nice looking Polaroids. I still really like that app, but my more recent love is an app called Hipstamatic, adding a bit of analog flair to the iPhone. I can swap lenses, film, flash. It's all very delightful.

Today I used the Hipstamatic exclusively to document my day.