That's All, Forks

So, the man and I decided that we don't do enough exciting things so we decided to embark on a Forks Adventure. We took a camera along, and wanted to capture the absolute magic of The Forks on film. We hardly achieved our ultimate goal, but we had an absolute blast.

We rode the glass elevator, we bought cotton candy, we gave money to a Jamaican busker, and stared longingly at homemade fudge. If I were richer I think I would purchase all of my clothes there, I'd be a vision in cultural boho. How envious I am of people living in the artsy parts of the city, if only I had the nerve. I don't, however, I can hardly spend a night in my little south city apartment. If I were down on Osborne for a night, I may hyperventilate and pass out, thus my hesitation toward living there. The apartments, though, have a lot more character, and the music, the people, the energy, is so much more alive during the day. But like I said, an area that thrives during the day, does equally as much a'slither in the darkest hours of the night.

Unfortunately, however, one of my favourite pictures of the day turned out to be not of the Forks at all, but actually of the inside of the man's car. It isn't anything special, but I sorta like it.


I also managed to capture us at the top of the glass elevator, in front of our beautiful city.


Please enjoy a taste of the performance we got in the food court. I didn't get his name, but he's performing Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry." Got that right, buddy.