MAR 2026Process

AMorningattheMarket

Studio delivery van parked at dawn outside the flower market

Thealarmgoesatfive.Thecityisstillasleep,theDVPemptyinbothdirections.Wepullintothemarketlotandthefluorescentshityou—thatblue-whitewholesalelightthatmakeseverythinglookslightlymedicaluntilyoureyesadjust.

View through the studio door to a Toronto street at golden hour, CN Tower in the distance

Luisforfoliagefirst,always—hiseucalyptussellsoutbysix-thirty.ThentheDutchcarts,thenaslowpassthroughtheOntariogrowers,theirbucketsstilldrippingfromthecooler.Youlearntoreadthestemsbeforeyoutouchthem—thewayaroseholdsitsnecktellsyoueverythingabouthowlongithasbeentravelling.Byseven-fifteenthevanisloadedandtherealworkbegins.

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