I’m Han

DY∆D, Fashion, Photography, Street photography, Travel

























































Signage: a study of South O

DY∆D, Photography, Travel

In Canada, there’s absolutely no place quite as strange as South O— so naturally that’s where we hail from. This is the land of the KD and hotdog dinner, a land where vegetables have yet to earn a place on the plate, where it’s Christ now or a burn victim eternity. It’s okay to smoke while preggers, because at least she’s not eating oxys like they were wine gums. And, oh yeah, the ubiquitous pig roast, that ever-turning spit. Yeah buddy, let’s drink some pop and get our tarps off and get’er done, eh.

One of the most noticeable features across South O is the signage. It’s like some vast comic conspiracy is being carried out by the municipalities, the townsfolk and the business owners. Some of the shit is just dead wrong – like anti-abortion ads on public transit, and yo, don’t forget to cop a fresh high-crop fade at the Hair Port on your way outta town. lol.

South O also boasts something else. That’s old fashioned good people. There’s this moment when you realise that nothing really matters other than kindness and giving from the heart. If you’re ever having one of those who-gives-a-fuck-we’re-all-just pieces-of shit-fuck-the-world moments, all you gotta do is chill with Grandma Shirley. She’ll break you off with some homemade butter tarts and a glass of milk. And then she’ll smile at you warmly and tell you about Windsor city before the shopping malls and casinos. For real.

Werd up, we been out in MTL for quite awhile now, and we like it, but trips like this one make even the hardest all city chiller long for something a little smaller, and truer, and simpler. Respect to South O, even if they can’t style for shit or keep it p.c. half the time – at least they’re keeping it real, and you can feel that.









































































Occult, Street photography, Travel


RAKE is just dripping with talent— from his all analog approach to photography to his mobius strip mysticism. Peep game and consider that English is the guy’s third or fourth language:

“I would say that I felt home for a first time when I opened the door to the hall of the endless possibilities inside my mind. This is my favorite place I ever visited. Then, I felt like the cities and countries are just names and all you have is just circumstances, energy, people and geometry. Now, it is considered that even force or energy is a consequence of geometry, which makes the laws of nature seem simpler when it’s viewed from the context of a more comprehensive dimensional space. You can have a three-day long paradise in Somalia and an endless hell limbo in Saint-Tropez.”

Everything the guy puts out is layered with references and gritty as all get out. Check out this interview/exposé that MOOK LIFE did on his work—


Photography, Travel


Third or fourth time visiting moms since she moved out to AB, it’s mostly the same, bomb down the Trans Canada from Calgary to her flat in Canmore, the weekend spot that her Czech live-in boyfriend calls the ‘chata’, hung with crisp photo prints, stones and blown glass — came this time with Young Baby’s camera and the Zeiss…


First day, stay in – glut on red wine and look at the Three Sisters out the tall picture windows, bang out a review – but up early the next to wind along the road by Lake Minnewanka, park at the base to climb up, snowshoes carried in a loop of cord.


It’s damp and cool, but an hour up, into the valley, it’s deep winter, the snow thick and fine, without that smudgy look it gets after a bit of melt. It’s faster on the way down, not gasping from the altitude, peeling layers off slow. Spring is interstice enough without the gradient of mountainside.