A celebration of my love for my parents and of their bravery in the face of death. Footage shot from the windows of planes high above the Rocky Mountains, on trips between Winnipeg and the West Coast to visit my parents: broad metal wings equaling the heights of material invention, the dream-like hush of air travel, human endeavour sailing through blue ether. Music by Jason Tait.

“Les Brandt drives for Grey Goose Coach Lines due north from Winnipeg to Thompson, Manitoba, as well as on long distance charters all over North America. He was recently awarded the ‘Million Safe Miles Award’, as well as ‘Driver of the Year’. “I drove highway bus myself for many years – it was an exceptionally good seasonal artist’s job, that I still miss. When speaking with Les, I’m reminded in particular of the summer of ’87, when I drove a route from northern British Columbia to the Yukon. Over the years I’ve come to admire people, like Les, who do their jobs well and seem to fit what they’re doing like it’s a well-tailored suit of clothes. “Les is also a painter, his specialty an on-going series of kinetic cow paintings (available through the Winnipeg Art Gallery).” Music by Jason Tait.

“‘Can’t you take a joke?’ They asked us that for years. The young artist’s role as witness, cataloguing the abject misery of his betters – then later, communing with mother moon and father darkness. Suburban car wrecks and the long walk home. ‘A friend recently suggested that the key biographical moment captured in this piece (witnessing my father’s temporary sense of freedom after transgressing the social contract of white, middle class, 1970’s, British Columbia) may have been when I decided to become an artist.” Music by Christine Fellows.

“A collage of family archive narrow gauge footage embracing/refuting the ideas of nostalgia and lost innocence, the contemporary commingling in our minds of the romantic past and easy irony. We can’t go back. The home we search for is gone. The kinder, gentler, magazine we wish we could live in never existed at all. We are lost. Hurrah. “This footage, including my first steps, was filmed by my namesake, Clive Brown, a friend of the family, our adopted ‘Uncle Clive’, and a west coast fisherman. Nanaimo, British Columbia, is where my family first attempted to set up a home in Canada after arriving from Dublin. They moved, for work reasons, to Victoria two years later. As a result, Nanaimo took on a useful mythical status for my family, becoming the place before complexity and sadness.” Music by Christine Fellows.