is it too late to cancel? is a collection of work by photographer Simon Remark that was made during various travels around the globe and here in Canada.

For a decade and a half, Simon has been a wedding and portrait photographer, but what he loves most is street photography and rural landscapes. Much of his personal work is captured on film. 

The photos exhibited at Adaptavist were taken on trips he either tried to cancel or wished to cancel last minute. Simon finds the romanticized versions of people’s travels on social media intriguing, believing they rarely show when they’ve had a terrible time, don’t enjoy flying, got sick, or that they would’ve rather been at home. From a very young age, Simon has had intense intrusive thoughts about dying whenever travelling, but he does it anyway. By living a value-driven life and not one governed by mental health difficulties, he has found that none of the terrible imaginations actually happen, and he ends up taking some of his favourite pictures!

Simon is heavily invested in social justice initiatives — for every $100 spent on his work at this exhibit, five meals will be provided to someone in need through PROVISIONS BY VALERIE, a social venture that seeks to increase food accessibility in the city. 

Thank you for taking the time to see my pictures.

Sincerely,

SR

lunenburg 2018

An evening stroll through Lunenburg at magic hour. I love east coast architecture and love how the top left window appears to be sticking its tongue out. Valerie and I ate seafood towers at a restaurant overlooking the bay. It was gorgeous, the food was amazing, the town is picturesque. I could go on about all the lovely offerings of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. But what was supposed to be two nights turned into four or five because I cancelled the next part of our journey, the Cabot Trail, because it would mean an extra 16 hours of driving. I've never shared this until now, but oftentimes on long road trips, while driving on "highways" that have only two lanes going in opposite directions and no barrier, I have persistent intrusive thoughts about head-on collisions with the many Mack trucks barreling by in the opposite direction. Driving to the Cabot Trail became more and more daunting after several days on the road, and Lunenburg was comfortable. So while this might be a picture of a beautiful home drenched in gorgeous light, what also goes along with it was a disappointed wife who took the time and care to plan two nights along the Cabot Trail where she knew I'd love taking photos, eating local cuisine, and taking in the magnificence of Canada's East Coast. We probably also took a hit on the Airbnb cancellation. So, what it too late to cancel? Probably. And knowing what she knows now, she probably wouldn't have let me cancel.

caribbean sea 2024

I agreed to this trip without hesitation. Valerie and I were walking to Krispy Kreme when she got a call from her dad asking if we'd like to join them for the second leg of a cruise out of Fort Lauderdale, travelling down to Colombia and back. I didn't have any bookings or valid reasons to say no given the time frame (even though I think rec basketball is a valid reason, Valerie does not.) My ex generously agreed to stay with the kids at our home during our custody days, as they go to school in our neighbourhood, so I really had no reason to say no. Leading up to the trip I wasn't fraught with anxiety or thoughts of some terrible death, but when we got to the airport I felt sad and homesick. It wasn't until we were in line to board the ship that I was full of regret. The intrusive thoughts started rolling in, but I kept it moving and let the thoughts just be there without doing anything to try and stop them. We unpacked, toured the ship, went in the hot tub, but the thoughts were getting louder, the ruminating had begun: "what if we have terrible weather and end up in a life boat in the middle of the ocean at night? I'm not going to start ritualized prayer, I'm not going to go clean my room, I'm going to just act like a normal human, the normal humans are having fun, I'll pretend to have fun." By dinnertime I was having a nice time -- smooth sailing, a cocktail, a nice dinner with Valerie and her parents. All was well. Cut to the next morning. We woke up to stormy seas, a rocky boat, an announcement to remember to hold the railings while walking, seasoned cruisers talking about hurricanes. It was not fun. And that was most of our days at sea. In fact, the wind was so strong that we had to abort one of the ports of call. When we sailed away from Limon, Costa Rica we were met by 10-15 meter waves and 36 hours of the most stressful travel I've experienced.

That being said, had I not endured the many stressors and terrible thoughts on the cruise, I would have never experienced a centuries old monastery in Cartagena, Colombia, would have never seen the Panama Canal, taken in the beautiful colours of Curaçao, or been immersed in the daily life of the people in Limon, Costa Rica.

hong kong 2017

The funny thing about this trip is I didn't have strong feelings about cancelling. I was actually excited about it, which is rare for me. However, an hour or two into the flight we suddenly hit the worst clear air turbulence I'm sure I'll ever experience. There was a loud bang, drinks went flying, flight attendants were looking for the closest empty seat and hanging on for dear life while trying to secure the drink carts. The Cathay Pacific flight packed with hundreds of older Chinese folks rang out with a series of WAAAH!!!s and this went on for what seemed like 5-10 minutes. Maybe it was less but it certainly felt like an eternity. I remember thinking, "the one time I'm cool with flying and THIS happens?! WTF." The funny thing is, at that moment I was watching a Fast and Furious movie and the scene that was playing when the turbulence started was Charlize Theron on an aircraft that somehow, as is often the case in movies and TV, was completely still -- not even an ounce of engine noise. Complete BS, I thought. When it was over, the turbulence that is, not the movie, our flight attendant was walking up and down the aisle checking on passengers and cleaning up and it was the first time I had ever seen a flight attendant shaking and crying. Now, anytime I'm on an aircraft that starts to get really bumpy I'm taken back to this experience, hoping that the bumps don't intensify.

highway #12 2014

Highway #12 was taken on a cold dreary day when my friend Jay and I left the city to take pictures of rural landscapes — fallen barns, abandoned homes, cars that had been forgotten, anything that conjured images from a Flannery O’Connor tale of lost souls waiting to be met by God’s grace. Outward scenes that reflected how I was feeling on the inside. But over time this picture moved from darkness to light and has become a testament to male friendship. I was so depressed at the time trying to repair a marriage that turned out to be beyond repair. It was a traumatic event that triggered an OCD episode characterized by an onslaught of constant distressing intrusive thoughts with accompanying feelings of despair. It sounds strange but I was lucky to have a friend who was going through an equally awful time. It was so helpful to have someone who was just there. It’s rare that men can be a support to each other because our misguided notions of masculinity tell us we’re not supposed to be vulnerable and express hurt and sadness. Shortly after this, Jay moved his family to Quebec, and me and my ex separated and then divorced. We were much like the two beat-up cars going in opposite directions but hanging on to their former glory, surviving the weather and the attempts of the earth to swallow them up. This was a time, for me, when not only plans were cancelled, but a future with someone I thought I'd be with for the long haul.

the violent bear it away 2014

This photo was taken about an hour north of Montreal. If you’re not paying attention this stretch of road’ll kill you — you’ve never seen drivers so fast and reckless as in rural Quebec. Whenever I look at this picture I’m reminded of a passage from Flannery O’Connor’s novel of the same name: “He knew that he was the stuff of which fanatics and madmen are made and that he had turned his destiny as if with his bare will. He kept himself upright on a very narrow line between madness and emptiness and when the time came for him to lose his balance he intended to lurch toward emptiness and fall on the side of his choice.” Leading up to making this picture I was sitting in a coffee shop with my friend Jay and he was telling me he was going to this cabin in Northern Quebec to get away for a few days because he was depressed and despairing. “Yeah, me too,” I responded and proceeded to invite myself. I brought a handful of point and shoot cameras for the journey — RICOH GRD, Yashica T4, and finally the one this photo was taken on, HOLGA 120N most likely with Kodak T-Max 400. It’s one of my favourite pictures and a great reminder of how far I’ve come in the past decade — from despairing and thinking I might end up in a mental health hospital to feeling a sense of hope and feelings of joy and gratitude. I no longer feel like I’m choosing between madness and emptiness. But this photo almost never happened. This trek to Northern Quebec almost never happened. I got very little sleep the night before meeting up with Jay at the Mega Bus terminal at 6AM because I was obsessing about all the things that could go wrong.

only the suffering god can help

This photo was taken about an hour north of Montreal. I was driving into the city from the cabin I talked about in The Violent Bear It Away. I was with my friend Sath, visiting Jay. My preference was to stay at the cabin but Sath was eager to go into the city and shoot a few rolls of film. I was reluctant but happy I agreed because on the drive I spotted this statue in my periphery and pulled off the road to take a few pictures. The weathered nature of the statue reflected the Jesus I grew up admiring, following, and believing in. My dad was a pentecostal pastor so I grew up in a lot of fire-and-brimstone churches that made the Christian faith scary and unattractive — the opposite of “good news.” I avoided the Old Testament because the God depicted their seemed vengeful and mean, so I gravitated to the red letters of the Gospels. It wasn’t until I went through a period of darkness that I came to know God as being the exact same in character as the refugee who taught enemy love and social justice. Immanuel, God with us, came to set the record straight. God looks exactly like Jesus. This weathered statue in a field in the middle of nowhere. Arms open, blessing, accepting, loving. Taking care of the widows, orphans, and everyone on the fringes. However, when I travel I still have intrusive thoughts about dying and the possibility of an eternity in the fiery hell I was bludgeoned with growing up in those fire-and-brimstone, Heaven's Gates Hell's Flames, pentecostal churches.