Today I took a big step.

I approached a man I did not know and I talked with him, interviewed him, took photos of him.

This was not a big step because of our conversation but, instead, because I approached him, not the other way around. It took me nearly an hour, sitting on the lawn of the metropolitan united church in the heart of downtown Toronto; Here I was, little white girl with a big black camera crouched beneath a tree trying to suss out a good subject. There was one gentleman pacing around the space, circling near his shopping cart full of bags and suitcases. I thought for a while that he was the one, but when he finally sat down he began scratching himself under the shirt, back of the pants, on the belly... I started to have second thoughts about getting too close.

It is surprising how intimidating people in a park can be. You are either looking at the under privileged of the city, the hospital workers on lunch, or the rebellion. I wanted so badly to walk up to the chess players and ask them questions, but once again, there were many and I was few. Eventually I noticed a man sitting on the other side of the park. He was nearly a shadow; long black hair streaked with grey from age and a thin figure leaned against large roller suitcase. He seemed to be watching nothing in particular,  just calmly observing life in the park.  Stories were seeping from his aura. When I smiled at him I had no response, which in my opinion was better than a negative one, so I approached.

The exhilaration was almost too much for me as I sat down in front of him and introduced myself, asking his name. " Where are you going?" I prompted, pointing at his suitcase. "nowhere" he smiled, "I will be here for a while". Meanwhile,  a large number of wasps surrounding me changing the tone of my excitement. " Geez, popular place for wasps eh?" I laughed. He calmly pointed " you are sitting on food" I jumped up, revealing a pile of chicken bones under my camera bag. " ha, oh boy" I covered my embarrassment. The man must have been covering too, because there wasn't even a hint of entertainment in his eyes, only sympathy.

Wasps and bones

We got on, talking about his life, his work, the places that he has lived. He was a photographer once, he traveled all over the world photographing artists, musicians, politicians, he was very well known. Javid spent the past 2 decades, almost, in southern Ontario though. " I love the big city, the opportunity, the geography" He said, smiling. The first thing he wanted to do when he arrived in a city was establish himself, establish which direction the streets went and how he can get around.

We talked about cameras, him reminding me that even with technology, a good photographer captures the life of the subject, not everyone can do that. You must capture the essence of a scene in order to really be a photography, the essence of a subject matter in one shot. Our conversation made me nervous as I was still hoping to shoot a couple of him.

We discussed weather. How in his home country, Iran, There are no shadows at noon. But here in Canada we always have shadows. From a photographer to a computer programmer, Javid walks around and is always programming in his mind. Even without a computer, as he currently is, he is still programming.

It makes you wonder about the hard wiring in people, how similar we are to computers. here you have this man, sitting in a park, completely open to the experiences which approach him, and you have this girl, completely oblivious to the experiences that are occurring to her.

At the end of our conversation I asked Javid if I could take his picture. he looked hesitant so I told him it would only be for my personal development, taking photos of strangers. He agreed. I gave him my camera too so he could try it out, he did and I think I can post that photo for this story if nothing else.

Anyways, this was written quickly. But consider it just the beginning. there will be much more to come.

A long way to go, little journalist, a long way to go.