Vancouver: Through My Eyes

Millicent Sharman
vancouver
through my eyes
a photography & writing collection

Hello! My name is Millie, and welcome to my
2022-2023 Capstone project: a creative, freeflowing
zine about Vancouver, BC. Throughout
this piece you will find snippets of my own
experiences with members of the community,
reflected in conversations and poems. All
photographs in this zine have been taken by me.
You will find not only pictures of people, but
pictures of lush nature, captivating architecture,
and even a few birds.
I hope that this magazine will give you a look
at Vancouver, as the title suggests, through
my eyes. But above all, I hope my work instills
in you at least a little happiness and intruige,
perhaps even leaving you more curious about the
world than when you first started reading.

Part One:
DAY
Thank you to my mentor, Tallulah

UBC’s libraries
shelves and spirals of
knowledge, bound in
rough blues and
soft greys, warm maroons.
mirrors of the living,
the books sit in hushed solitude.
nearby, neurons fire
synapses form, incomprehensibly
quick.
loud
pulses
in
organized
rhythm,
veiled
by thick
focus.
every
now and
then, the
mirrors
are
shattered
by
conversation,
forgotten
with a
smile on
a gentle
face.
UBC

PACIFIC SPIRIT PARK
Shadows dance along rough boughs, hints of blue
peeking through a sea of tree trunks.
“This is her favourite part of the day,” a dogwalker tells
me one afternoon as we watch our dogs trot in circles,
stirring up gravel, happily greeting each other.
Somewhere in the distance, a bird sings.

“The more freely you allow yourself to take chances
and to put yourself in vulnerable situations, the more
you’ll learn about yourself and the more you’ll learn
about the world.” - Justin Matthew Deak
DUNBAR
One May evening at Chaldecott Park, I meet Justin, who
has been playing the guitar there the whole afternoon. We
talk about music, the city, and the importance of being
open to new things. When I ask him for advice for life, he
says the best piece of advice he can offer is to be true to
yourself regardless of what others think.

KITSILANO
Along Kits
beach, the July
sun blushes
a light rose,
mingling with
peach. Water
laps at the land
with a persistent
fervor.
“Kids, be careful when you run
around,” a parent calls, rising from her
playful beach towel.
People are packed like sardines on
the sand. Families settle in clumps of
snacks and sunscreen bottles; restless
children run barefoot, stirring up the
sand. They are free, their parents’
warnings second to the funnily shrill
seagulls, and waxing and waning of
the ocean.

Crisp Autumn air. Nearby,
waves caress wooden docks.
Pigeons wander the streets,
unfazed by the clamor of
conversation and cars.
GRANVILLE ISLAND
A lady
and her
dog are
a few of
the many
there. I pet
the dog’s
auburn
fur, and
it’s soft
like the
salty
breeze.

EAST VAN: PLAYLAND
playland
doors open and it’s all
adrenalineelectrifying
coloura
rollercoaster ride for the sensesa
cacophony of laughter, shrieks, squeals.
one ride spins you,
another shoots you
two hundred feet high.
and when you’re up there
it pauses. waits,
for you to catch your breath, and the view.
and then all at once you are engulfed,
consumed by
a smooth flood of zero gravity
swallowed by a
blurry realm of slow motion,
simultaneously living the fastest you’ve ever livedand
then you pause again. it’s over, you’re at the bottom. but
everyone is still laughing in
shared euphoria
A friend and
I board the
Hellevator, a ride
that shoots you
up high and drops
you back down
just as forcefully.
There’s an empty
seat next to us,
and a young man
volunteers to fill
it, cheered on by
others in the line.
As we wait for the
drop, the feeling
of weightlessness
hits all of us
suddenly, and
my ears fill with
the bright sound
of half-screams,
half-laughs.

DOWNTOWN
In August, a few hours before a concert at Rogers Arena,
the air is thick with excitement. A few girls are offering
free banners and goodies. There is an unspoken bond
between these thousands of strangers. Everyone here knows
something about everyone else’s life - their music taste -
and that is a rare, special feeling.

Regardless of the season, downtown is bustling and busy.
It is a world of cracked concrete, fresh paint, old brick,
stories written and rewritten in murals and graffiti.

RICHMOND

richmond night market
summer skyscape,
rapture in pink and blue.
scents from stalls
tantalize patient patrons,
waft through winding lines.
it is cold for a typical June.
but warmth bursts and blends,
emanating from crowds,
it swirls like silk
to swathe the masses in
diaphanous comfort.
Part Two:
NIGHT
At the Night Market, I
watch a woman emerge
from a stall, holding a donut
victoriously, only to drop it
face-down onto the concrete.
Everyone watching gasps,
then smiles as the staff,
chuckling, make her a new
one. We are all strangers,
but there is a sense of
camaraderie here.

In Winter, the soft sound of skates scraping
ice envelopes Robson Square. Laughter and
chatter dance in and out of earshot as pop
music plays. Overhead, lights cycle through
the rainbow.

Vancouver at night: hazy yellow
lamplight, rainy streets, towering
concrete and glass. In later hours, the
traffic lights become a sea of green.
And yet the city does not slumber;
there is always an apartment light
on, a car on the streets, someone
awake.
On freezing nights, I think of
those without a shelter from the frosty hands of
Winter. This city, though often beautiful, is not idyllic.
Vancouver still has much to do, and farther to go.

Thank you for reading