11 August 2018 at 9:24am (Toronto, Canada)


I'm home.

Well, it's one of my homes - it feels like I have three, really: in Sydney, Toronto, and Pointe au Baril. But this is where I spent the most time, growing up.

This house has been here longer than I have; my parents bought it in 1962, and have somehow stayed here all that time - while I can't even remember all my addresses in the last 20 years, theirs has remained fixed.

It seems inevitable that this will change, and possibly soon; by the next time I visit Canada, it's quite likely that new people will have taken on this place - and maybe torn it down, to start fresh.

So I'm more conscious than ever of the little details that make it so familiar: the creak of the boards under the carpet in the hall; the way the sun comes through the blinds in the morning; the broken bannister where our dog used to shove his head through while lying on the stairs; the chip in the piano keyboard. (I don't think I did that.)

The lightswitch in the shape of an angel; the stereo my dad built from a kit; the record player that played 78s of Gilbert & Sullivan; Dad's thermos he used to fill with coffee for the drive to work; his tools.

The touch-tone phone, with speed dial buttons to call family and friends - a lot of whom are no longer there to answer.

This could be my last week here. But, for now, I'm home.

Robert Catto

PO Box 806, Darlinghurst, NSW 1300, Australia

I'm a Canadian-Kiwi photographer in Sydney Australia, specialising in performing arts, live events, editorial and corporate / commercial work.