It’s easy to take for granted Ottawa is a virtuous feast of the extra-curricular. Behind each niche event lies a small group of people who, one day, decided they would invest time so that others would have a way to spend theirs.
Not that getting down to the Diner for poutine is a horrible way to plan events.
Melany, Kelly and Veronica are three of those niche-makers; community-builders capturing the women-in-tech scene here in Ottawa. Which means they have smarts, too.
Max is number twenty nine, but actually turned thirty a week ago. This might be the last bit of visual evidence of his 20s.
And good riddance. This guy has got some things to do, and it may just involve the two buildings he’s standing between. Or something else entirely; bottom line is we’re all pretty lucky to have him. I’ll let history prove me right.
This is Parliamentary Budget Officer Kevin Page.
This man regularly stares down the Prime Minister. And other guys in suits.
I asked him, on behalf of my 30-year public service veteran father: What do you do when you know your advice is not being considered? He said, approximately: That’s the way the world is, sometimes. But you have to believe in the debate. And you have to keep doing it, no matter what.
Kevin Page is, evidently, an Eddie Vedder song.
I traveled to the distant suburb of Westboro for this picture. But it was necessary; Andrea is perhaps best understood in her own neighborhood. She has worked hard to make it the place she wants to belong.
I was not unfamiliar with Andrea; most people know her as a founding and well-read member of the Ottawa blogging community. Writing must truly transcend, because in person, she is equally, and delightfully deft at persuading her audience there is good reason, still, to aspire to the good.
This is Steven. I could write one hell of a dating ad for the fellow. He’s quality.
If he has to this point been less inclined to travel, he desperately needs to revisit it. He may be Kerouac in the making, but that’s just my impression. He already intends to write a book. And produce a film. And while that tends to sound like naked ambition from most people, to him it just seemed suitable.
Just like his special request to pose with some awesome statues. Happy to oblige.
This is Jen and James. James writes hysterical emails that are generally incongruous with his mannerly disposition. Jen makes no such pretenses.
They wouldn’t hardly stop looking at each other for one damn minute.
It was over a shared love of the Sartorialist that Bianca and I decided to meet. Her, from a desire to be on one side of the camera. Me from the other.
I love the story of her black and white dress; an obscene splurge her mother made twenty years ago at Holt Renfrew. The occasion was her high school reunion.
Robyn’s blog was one of the first Ottawa blogs I ever saw; she sold me a custom-made tote for my little sister one Christmas, and we’ve been seeing each other around ever since. It’s nice when the internet happens to good people.
And let’s hope it keeps happening. Robyn moved to Montreal this spring. Like I needed another reason to go there.
Theresa‘s a prairie girl; tall and lean is not uncommon where we come from. She is obviously amazing at colours. This, she learned, in cartography, which is harder than you would think, arranging all those colours together. Why is Russia always pink? Theresa would know.
She’s also a master of expression; you’re going to love these.
