[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” min_height=”338px” custom_margin=”||-76px|||” custom_padding=”15px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”2px|||||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” animation_style=”fade” animation_duration=”2000ms” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
On the 14th of January, 1985 I photographed my maternal grandfather, William <\/span>Spriggs (6th William generationally of direct lineage in a row) in the photo <\/span>studio of The Gateway, the student paper of the University of Alberta.<\/span><\/p>\n I was rolling my own Plus-X film in those days – 36 exposure cassettes from 100 ft rolls. I was so careful with quantity <\/span>that I inadvertantly re-used a roll that had already been mostly used on a <\/span>Canadian University Press junket to Abbottsford, BC. The result was a series <\/span>of photographs of my grandfather over-top of exposures of the lower mainland.<\/span><\/p>\n While initially horrified at the mistake, I came to love the accident, and was <\/span>seduced by the otherworldly effect and wholly-new story that developed out <\/span>of the plain images I had taken of him. There were a few single-exposure <\/span>frames at the end of the roll, and I have included a few of those as well.<\/span><\/p>\n ~ timothy<\/span><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-51px|auto||auto||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_gallery gallery_ids=”5270,5271,5272,5273,5274,5275,5276,5277,5278,5279,5280,5281,5282,5283,5284,5285,5286,5287,5288″ posts_number=”8″ _builder_version=”4.27.2″ _module_preset=”default” min_height=”756.6px” animation_style=”fade” animation_duration=”2000ms” animation_delay=”1500ms” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_gallery][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”0px|||||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” min_height=”83px” animation_style=”fade” animation_duration=”2000ms” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n It is now 40 years since these images were taken.<\/span> Three of his four children survive today – my uncles in their eighties and my Mum now 93.<\/span><\/p>\n ~ July, 2025<\/span><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" On the 14th of January, 1985 I photographed my maternal grandfather, William Spriggs (6th William generationally of direct lineage in a row) in the photo studio of The Gateway, the student paper of the University of Alberta. I was rolling my own Plus-X film in those days – 36 exposure cassettes from 100 ft rolls. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[76],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5316","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5316"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5550,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316\/revisions\/5550"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5316"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5316"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hellum.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5316"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Will passed away two years after he sat here for me, at 89 years of age. He was <\/span>a mystery to me; a WWI pilot, a quiet English gentleman, someone largely out of touch with modernity, a man to whom I was somehow so closely related.<\/span><\/p>\n