My neighbour, Alex. Or, as I like to call him, The World's Happiest Man. He came upon me deep in the middle of photographing one of my usual subjects - a wall - and asked how come he wasn't in the picture. Always happy to oblige a neighbour, I promptly put him in one.

Alex is one of those guys who might also be referred to as "The King of...", or, "The Unofficial Mayor of...", the "..." in this case being Kerrisdale. He knows everybody and is friends with everybody. He's retired (I have no idea what from), and lives with a fiery French-Canadian woman who's got a mass of red hair big enough for three or four people and a pretty good singing voice. If I hear voices coming from their apartment, it's almost always them laughing (or her singing). Not just quiet laughing, but all-out, take-a-good-deep-breath-and-let-go laughing. These two people really enjoy their lives. Given my own tendency to gloom, they're great to live next door to.