STUDIO ANTHOLOGIE

STUDIO ANTHOLOGIE is the name I've devised for my creative practice.

Stories by George... and Kat is a collaborative work-in-progress. George Toles is a Distinguished Professor of English and Chair of Film Studies at the University of Manitoba. For more than ten years, George has been writing one or more short stories each day, and posting as his Facebook status update. George was also my BFA thesis advisor when I completed my honours degree in Photography at the U of M. I approached George at the start of 2018 with an idea to create a printed collection of these works, accompanied by images. Some of the work over the past year focused on various aspects of marketing and book design. This year I've made it a goal to post an image and story every day or two, to my Instagram feed. So this is a book project in the making. It's our intent, by publishing this on various platforms (Instagram, Tumblr) that an audience will continue to grow, and that galleries and publishers will also become fans.

​There's a great story attached to each of these images! Click on the photos below to open up the story and image on Instagram. There you can leave a comment for me too, or send me an email — I enjoy hearing your thoughts.

Header image courtesy of Hannah Olinger on Unsplash

One summer afternoon, decades ago, Lorraine decided to try out her new reel to reel tape recorder by taping a family dinner.

Tyler said a cheery hello to a sad looking female passerby in the park.

We live our days visible to others, but each of us invents the world in secret, and at night, deep in our dreams, we hear voices.

Alan committed the sin of avoiding contact with an old, close friend from whom he had become estranged.

He decided on a whim to give his elementary school bully, Campbell Dirsky, a phone call.

Sister Angelica greeted Randolph by leaning forward and licking his face several times.

A voice he doted on had gone away, and would not be back for a time.

Once Hilda had captured John's imagination, she never let it go.

There came a day when the mere presence of any solid thing made Amanda fearful.

He was surprisingly eager to get back to work after his vacation, and the morning light during his peaceful bus ride downtown appeared full of promise.

Ruth said, "Back then upright walking wasn't the fashion."

It was supposed to be Gina's birthday party, but none of the guests at her house were familiar to her.

Quinn heard that his step-mother, from whom he had been long estranged, was seriously ill, and might be dying.

Grief quickly learns to mind its manners.

He was ready to start over, but his memory, of course, didn't want to, and didn't know how.

He gradually came to understand that he had acquired a reputation at the elementary school playground as a man to stay away from, and avoid talking to.

The vultures of doubt, misery, envy, and self-loathing that had long perched in Miles's heart and mind had finally been driven out.

Scott's mother used nothing but blue crayons, in the different Crayola shades of blue available to her.

Bruce performed his nightly ritual of turning his straight back chair to his lush garden wallpapered wall in the parlour, and leaning forward after sitting down with his head resting on his fists.

When one is deeply stirred, the force of beauty—of whatever kind—launches a blind search for the key and the door of memory.

Hannah watched a small square of light on her bedroom floor slowly travel to the wall and then disappear into shadow.

Phoebe found a pressed flower in her crumbling copy of Where Angels Fear to Tread.

She wanted to save his heart, so he had no choice but to struggle against her fiercely.

Cynthia longed to recover her childhood understanding of "forever", which seemed clear, untroubled, and simple.

Lloyd's morning was shimmering with promise.