Another black and white photo from Saturday morning.
I went out to take photos in a moody morning light, was wandering around in my usual spots, and it was alright. Then a guy on the street asked me for some change and I gave him a toonie. Dude's face was pretty mangled, looked like he was on the wrong side of a bad fight just a few days before. We exchanged pleasantries and he commented on how photography was cool.
Before having time for the meeting to leave my mind he was running up the sidewalk calling out to me. "Dude, dude, one question; colour or black and white?" He totally got me off-guard and exposed my preconception of him. I replied something to the effect of I usually shoot colour but have been trying to see in black and white more to blah blah blah.
He then spoke about the importance of photography, how he once had a backpack full of disposable film cameras stolen. "Man, there must've been 12 cameras, full of sentimental pictures of my buddies, and the worst part is that half of them are dead now." We went on to chat about photography for a bit.
I shot in black and white the rest of the morning, appreciating my dry feet and full belly more than usual, thinking about how photography, even as a hobby or snaps of your friends, connects people regardless of background. Art is for everyone.