An indisputable virtue of all children is their rejection of all that
is insincere and disaffected. If you come face to face with a
7-year-old in the park, you have entered their domain and must play by
their rules. A mind populated by the creatures and landscapes of the
imagination has no room for the useless weight of apathy and ennui. It
is a convenient truth of the members of Golden Isles then that when
they broke past the border of Dufferin Grove Park in Toronto on the
day of our shoot, they had no such encumbrances to check at the door.
We began with Lucas, Mya and Zadie immediately drawing the lion out of
Adam, the vocalist of the group. He broke out of our first shoot and
chased the kids through the park. Screams of delight lead to a
handstand contest, then impressions of the fiercest jungle creatures
they could think of. The rest of the group polished up for a session
of Love Life, performed in the makeshift hobbit house the Grove
community calls the Cob.
Our second destination, though steps away from the first, could not
have been further away from its spirit. We headed west to a giant
economy shopping centre of paradise to breathe some life into the
banality of the bargain grocery experience.
After fleeing a thoroughly truant hit squad, we laughed about the
blank stares and a general lethargy of the reaction to spontaneous
performance. Gear was collected, troops accounted for and we headed
back into the safety of the park land in search of greener pastures
Text by Derrick Belcham