
A musician. A financial securities trader. A management consultant. A government executive. I used to be a lot of things.
Like all of us, I’m made from a long thread of moments—some luminous, others chaotic. All of them shaping the rhythm I carry now.
Yes, I have a couple of degrees in public administration and cultural studies. But I probably learned more from my musical training—in jazz composition and improvisation—than I did in any boardroom. In jazz, you listen before you play, adapt when the rhythm shifts, and lead without stepping on someone else’s solo. The art is in balancing structure with freedom — keeping the tune recognizable, but leaving room for something unexpected to happen. That’s how I try to move through work… and life.
Professionally, I’ve spent over thirty years working with Indigenous communities across Canada. I still do that work. But the deeper thread? It’s always been about building trust, clarity, and space—especially at the edges where things tend to break down.
And those edges, those boundaries … they fascinate me. I’ve always been drawn to the places between things—light and shadow, chaos and insight, craving and aversion. That’s where life feels honest. A little raw. Sometimes absurd. But real.
I seek out those edges. I carry a notebook. And a camera. I try to capture the moments that pass unnoticed by most: a red toque flashing past on a bicycle; a single shoe beneath a streetlamp; a stranger’s glance that says more than words. I like to see myself as a purveyor of glimpses.
You will find some of those glimpses here.
Welcome,
Ian.
