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a google image of a nostalgic corner in Vancouver
A view from a Chinatown rooftop framing the stark contrast between the concrete of the DTES and the glass skyscrapers of Vanc

Street Photography

A fifteen-year photographic journey through the shifting landscapes of East Vancouver, capturing beauty, resilience, and  transformation.

Welcome

In 2009, when I moved into my spot on the DTES, this corner became a quiet, almost hidden part of my daily life. It was a shortcut—a small detour around the VPD and (fingers crossed) the road to bountiful.

Ten blocks away from the noise and chaos of Hastings and Main, she was a calm, consistent presence. Neither fancy nor out of place—simply there. She would smile, watch the world pass with a quiet attentiveness that drew me in. She always seemed more curious about the lives of people walking by than they ever were about hers.

Over time, the corner began to change. This image, taken in 2012, captures one of the few moments I interacted with her. While I was shooting, she watched me—amused, polite, maybe finding the scene strange but still approachable. It felt a bit like talking to a neighbour over the fence.

In our brief conversation, she told me she wasn’t a drug user, had never touched the stuff, and had raised four kids while doing the work she did. It wasn’t until later, when I looked up a Google image of that same corner from a few years earlier, that I understood how photography preserves stories. In that older image, there she was again—standing in the same spot, quietly part of the scene. I suspect she held that corner for at least a decade.

Back then, when I first began photographing this area, I knew that her presence on this corner was part of a larger, unfolding story. The neighbourhood was changing, and I could feel those stories unfolding right in front of me. This is how my camera began focusing on people, places, and viewpoints that seemed ordinary, yet held the potential to become lasting parts of a narrative I’d revisit and study for years.

Fifteen years have passed, and these galleries are filled with moments that have stayed with me. Looking back, I see how each moment has been captured and frozen in time—a reminder of photography’s power to preserve quiet stories. It’s not just about what I’ve seen, but how those stories continue to live through the images I’ve taken. And I hope they’ll endure, carrying these moments forward for years to come.

A narrow alleyway in East Vancouver, known as the West Wing, bathed in early morning light. The alley is lined with graffiti-

In 2009, when I moved into my spot on the DTES, this corner became a quiet, almost hidden part of my daily life. It was a shortcut — a small side-step around the VPD and (fingers crossed) a safer path to whatever came next. Ten blocks away from the noise of Hastings and Main, she was a calm, consistent presence. Not fancy, not out of place — just very ordinary and very there. She would smile and watch the world go by with a quiet attentiveness that drew me in. She always seemed more interested in the lives of the people walking past than they were in hers. Over time, the corner began to change. This image, taken in 2012, captures one of the few moments we spoke. As I was shooting, she watched me — amused, polite, maybe finding the scene a little odd, but still approachable. It felt like talking to a neighbour over the fence. She told me she wasn’t a drug user, had never touched the stuff, and had raised four kids while doing the work she did. Later, when I found an old Google Street View image of this same corner, I felt the weight of how photography preserves stories. In that older image, she was there again — standing in the same spot, quietly part of the scene. I suspect she held that corner for at least a decade. Back then, when I first began taking these photos, I knew her presence was part of a larger, unfolding story. The neighbourhood was changing, and I could feel those stories shifting right in front of me. That’s how my camera started focusing on people, places, and moments that seemed ordinary, yet carried the potential to become lasting pieces of a narrative I’d return to for years. Fifteen years have passed, and these galleries are filled with images that have stayed with me. Each moment is frozen in time — a reminder of photography’s power to preserve quiet stories. It’s not just about what I’ve seen, but how these stories continue to live through the images I’ve taken. And I hope they endure, carrying these moments forward for years to come.

Welcome

A small pink television sits abandoned in the middle of an empty urban street at the corner of Campbell and East Cordova.
A view from a Chinatown rooftop framing the stark contrast between the concrete of the DTES and the glass skyscrapers of Vanc

Street Photography

A fifteen-year photographic journey through the shifting landscapes of East Vancouver, capturing the beauty, resilience, and

transformations of Vancouver.

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