The warm air smelled like hot garbage from the day’s sun, the dumpsters were piled high with waste.  As I made my way around the apartment complex, strolling my dogs for their nightly exercise, the hair on the back of my neck suddenly raised, my body sensing something was not right.  Somewhere in the eerie, hot stillness, a mechanical fish dolefully serenaded me with a rendition of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” from the depths of its metallic, trash-filled resting place.  Although I noticed the garbage, frequently commented on it, marvelled at its ever-presence, I never really stopped to see its strangeness, its staggering volume, or its odd artfulness - a mountain of sofas, replenished and restacked every few weeks, and mattresses towered together like so many Jenga tiles, ready to topple in an instant.  The next day, I began photographing, using a half-frame camera. Deemed a toy by some, and undeniably primitive in its capture methods, it seemed fitting. The half frame nature of the camera seems like a form of poetic justice - rather than wasting, these cameras allow you to capture 2 half frames in the space of a usual 35mm frame, cutting the number of film rolls used in half.  This series, which started in October 2018, is ongoing. I endeavor to photograph weekly, and sometimes manage to revisit the heaps multiple times as they ebb and flow.