A purposive representation of a scene or subject in any form of photography relies on at least two functions during the creation of an image. The first is comprised of the photographer's own framing and subjective angle on the particular phenomena, and the second is in regards to the equipment being used.

Toronto is widely held as a 'photographer's city', and so as Toronto urbanites, we seem to be inundated with images. Because of this, scenery once new and wild often becomes blase due to repetition. For this photo-series, I chose to utilize a very unique and beautiful in-camera mode of capturing images -- that of infrared.

With all of the hype surrounding Toronto's LG Fashion Week, I thought it would be interesting to divert slightly from my usual urban exploration-type posts, and have a bit of fun.

I begin with the admittance that I am by no means a portrait photographer, unless we are talking about the portraiture of historic buildings. I have, however, compiled a series of images of the people I explore Toronto's unseen spaces with, in some of their favorite haunts. Although many are plainly staged (garment/prop-wise), they were all taken with an air of fun, and a unique aesthetic when it comes to fashion statements.

At 639 Queen St. West sits a building which has at various times over the years amazed me, confused me, and until only very recently, been completely inaccessible to me. Most of us will remember it as King Sol, abandoned in 2002, with its newspapered windows and imposing gates, but when it was originally built in 1907, it was the F.C. Burroughes Department store.

The seven-storey building narrowly escaped a major fire a few years back, which enveloped several of its neighbours. Since then, it has thankfully seen better days, recently being fitted with new windows and innards, awaiting prospective businesses and tenants.

After ascending roughly 50 floors of an unfinished condo on Toronto's Bay Street, we found ourselves facing a spectacular 360-degree view of the city. Far enough away from the downtown core, and yet close enough to see its entire breadth, we were blown away, once again, by the fruits of our rooftopping adventure.

Many Torontonians view the sprawl of vertical living space stretching toward the lake as a blight on the landscape. As a hobby photographer, I tend to take a slightly different stance, viewing the construction of these buildings as massive metal and glass monopods. For me, these buildings don't obfuscate my view so much as they allow for more intriguing perspectives from which to gaze at my city...

For nearly a decade, just north of Toronto, a quarter-million square foot greenhouse has sat abandoned. I had heard of this place for some time, but never understood just how massive the complex really was and thus paid it little attention.

The decay in this place is very unique, as it seems to follow the seasons. Where the plants have punctured the glass ceilings, there is growth. Most areas, however, lie either parched or completely dead.

With all of the recent controversy surrounding the demolition of the derelict hangars and control tower at Toronto's former Downsview air base, we thought a final visit to the site was appropriate.

Coming around the south end of the property, we were amazed to see the haste of its demise, with an entire side to the building now missing. The open space inside the two main hangars is astounding. Perhaps it's the way in which such vast emptiness hints at what it once contained that left us in awe of the historic building.