Film from 2018

Dalton Barath

I found a roll of film from years ago. This was the only print of any substance. Everything else was destroyed. A wreck. A lot of black with nothing, a couple of ruined shots. This was the only thing left. A double exposure of Dalton and myself in my room in first year. Lovingly dubbed the jail cell.

How the fuck did we go from there to here? I don't even talk to him anymore. I haven't spoken to him in over a year. The last time was an awkward goodbye at the Grad Club. I hope he's happy now. I wonder if he ever made it into military school. I wonder if he's still with his girlfriend. She was a sweet generous person, exactly the kind of person he needed. 

Adam and I

Summer 2016

In Memory Of

I'm talking to my old roommate and I want to cry. I say to her, "It's weird thinking back to the last day on campus and knowing that I'll always go back to Queen's, but it won't be home anymore."

Back in April, I distinctly remember standing in front of Stauffer Library at Union and University, looking across the street to the John Deutsch University Centre. I thought to myself that I will never be back in that spot.

Kingston, Ontario, Canada is only a three hour drive from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, where I live now. Queen's University has a long homecoming tradition and a strong community. I will always go visit Queen's and Kingston. I will visit next year to see my friends who are still studying at Queen's, I will return later still to see Queen's again. It's not the last time. The visits will just be less frequent than every day, going to my classes or the library.

Queen's University and the time I spent there from ages 17 to 21 will always, always hold a special place in my heart and soul.

In March, I am sitting in my bedroom with a Queen's alumnus. He graduated two years ago. We met at a wine-and-cheese alumni event in Ottawa. I tell him that I'm terrified to be leaving Queen's - excited, but terrified. I tell him I will miss my friends and the moments we shared together. He told me that things will be OK, he said that sometimes visiting Queen's is even better than being there. I told him I loved my friends, I loved living with them and being able to pop into their houses at any time. Still, sitting in my bedroom now in Toronto, I hope the alumnus is right. Life will be OK, and Queen's will always be a pleasant visit in the future.

If not for Queen's, I don't know what kind of person I would be. I believe in nurture over nature, that we are a product of our environments.

I chose Queen's University and moved to Kingston, Ontario, Canada because at 17, I desperately wanted to run away. I didn't feel happy anymore. I wanted Queen's University to become a home I built by myself, for myself. And it did. I arrived at Queen's knowing four people - a guy friend from middle school and three other kids from my high school. I left Queen's having made some of my best friends and knowing some of the best people. I left Queen's having discovered more of myself, and more importantly, having found family.

A month before the typical return to Queen's, I miss it. I miss my friends, I miss the campus, I miss the professors. I miss Stauffer Library. I miss walking by the gym I never went to. I miss getting Booster Juice and Quiznos. I miss QP and weekend wings nights. Oh, and the sangria. There are so many details. I loved my time there. I can't believe I'm a Queen's alumnae.

SOS

I think I am caught in last summer. SOS, send help.

Today, I am standing in a local Toronto shop called Soop Soop with a guy I just met. It is a beautiful store- bright, white, simple, minimalist, humorous almost in its decoration, light-hearted in its feel. He is a nice guy- easy and interesting to talk to. Engaging, with a pink North Korea hat. I just met him, and I listen to his conversation with the store clerk/ owner. I am flipping through a C-Heads Magazine. Issue #33, entitled Summer. Lovers and Strangers. 

The magazine is beautiful. It is dedicated to summer, to the lovers and strangers we meet during the warm, sunshine months. I realize I am not photographing, hardly documenting.

Last summer, I met a man, I was reintroduced to California, I sat in backyards and drank too much beer. I was learning what it was to live, to love, to be part of an adventure.

Photographs are a great way of remembering, linking yourself to the past but also bringing people and experiences to your future. I need to return to this form of documentation. 

Pictured in the above are: Amanda, Hilary, Aleen, Jennifer, Andrew, Phil, Shivam, Devonte, Taylor, Adam and myself.