Hold on to the line from the hook of a chance encounter long enough and new worlds lift into view. Time and the random toss of life have a way of separating us, but sheer curiosity often makes me hold on anyway, following the dives and spins, pining for the meaning beneath the waves, the meat at the tip of the hook.
About six years ago, I took a travel writing class in Vancouver. Although the class went on for weeks, it wasn’t until the ride home across town after the last class that I spoke with Keri Medig and we realized we lived within a block of each other. Since then, when we bump into each other in our neighbourhood we stop and chat a bit.
In the years since we met, I’ve watched Kari’s photography career ascend and found that I’m increasingly grateful that the hook holds, that I get to see the world through his eyes, and that I know something – however piecemeal – about the man behind the camera.
What I’ve seen of Kari’s generous personality and his love of being outdoors suffuses his photographs, which focus on the culture of snow and the extreme side of outdoor sports – not a world I have much experience with. But after more than an hour spent looking at everything on his website this morning, I realize that he’s found and communicated such warmth and intriguing visual stories from that world that I have a new respect for those who live there.
I also realize that I’ll miss Kari now that we’ve moved away from Vancouver. His viewpoint, his sensitivity to people and to subtle connections make me want to invite him over for dinner and conversation – not so easy now that we’re not in the same neighbourhood anymore.
I’ll hold fast to the line and see what happens.
Photo (Norway 2161) by Kari Medig. Used with permission.
Related reading: Pep Talk | Wing It, Books | Tim Moore’s Travel Writing
One Comment
Oh yes! You *must* hold on – what an interesting man and so not one to lose track of!