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For personal possessions I am a minimalist.

Ideally I'd be a squatter, owning a bike, camera and laptop; living on the top floor of some abandoned inner city building amidst by hustle and bustle in my insular sanctuary. Every evening I'd break another balustrade from the stairwell for the wood heater, pull the newspaper curtains across the window and climb into my sleeping bag. Each day would start with chai tea and a quick workout on the roof below glorious rent-free skies.

With a bike on my shoulder I'd head downstairs, maybe pass a few friends living in their converted corporate boardrooms then pedal into the traffic. I'd weave through cars, then jump onto the footpath to swerve the red lights. On the footpath I'd mow down obnoxious hordes of schools kids and cut off Mr Self Important Business man talking into his cyborg headset, splashing his starbucks all over another corporate droid next to him. They can fight it out and vent their frustrations on each other as I skid into the bakery for breakfast. I grab my croissants and roll to work, grinning ear to ear as the bakery smells waft from my backpack. Am I crazy for wanting this? I can't be the only one.



That lifestyle is at least a year away but I help maintain a lightweight state by giving away the extraneous shit I accumulate every couple of months. The bonus of these bimonthly cleanups is finding things I've forgotten about. I'd like to enter Exhibit A - 1 x roll of Fuji Fortia 50sp shot last July in Montreal, Canada.