Lucky seven story

In 2019, I was in a devastating accident where my vehicle flipped seven times onto the QEW after hitting seven fence posts along the service road. Despite not wearing a seatbelt, I wasn’t ejected. It felt like someone was holding me down in my seat, keeping me safe.

After the vehicle came to a stop on the passenger side, I climbed out and was rushed by concerned commuters who had stopped to check on the person inside the tumbling vehicle. They didn't believe they would see someone kicking out the sunroof and walking up to them without a scratch, and overwhelmed me with questions and concern. Naturally, I wanted a cigarette to ease my nerves before the adrenaline took hold of me, or maybe just an excuse to retreat after such an embarrassing crash.

I crawled back through the sunroof, where my pack of “Number Seven” cigarettes I smoked at the time was sitting upright, seemingly untouched, with the broken gold cross, that somehow broke from my necklace, resting perfectly on top. It looked as if someone had held the piece linking the pendant to the chain and twisted it. A curious way to break, considering my lower right rib was the only thing to make contact with the steering wheel from the initial impact, resulting in a hairline fracture.

I no longer smoke, but that brand was first introduced to me by a close friend who had passed away in a drunk driving accident years prior. At that moment, I knew it was a sign... he was watching over me. Seven fence posts, seven flips, number seven cigarettes and a cross. Seven became more than just a number. It became a symbol of resilience, luck, and carrying on. That’s why my work today, whether photography, videography, or design, is done under the name Lucky Seven;