Baring his Soul

 

 Baring his Soul

Live music is such a unique place to photograph
To photograph people
Musicians
Especially here on Whidbey Island, Washington.
So many local artists.

The golden time is when they play, and sing, their own songs
They connect to their lyrics in a more personal way

And there are those moments
Just a few of them during an hour show
Where the artist bares their soul
Connecting to a lyric that has personal menaing
Perhaps

This photograph was one of those moments
Ian Jackson is his name
A wonderful song he had written
He sung those words like no one was listening

Click-Click I went

He is still singing

Uncle Paul, why did you have to die?

This is one of the stories that I wrote for my book “Treasure Chest of Daddy’s Adventure Stories” in 1997  … about life … the sad part … but about family.

The story is in response to my 4 year old son Tyler’s question about his Uncle Paul, who died tragically March 29, 1995.I wrote this for my three children, so as years went by, and they grew, they would have an answer to this big question, ,if they ever asked it.

____________________________________________________

“Uncle Paul, why did you have to die?”

It was a Sunday evening, I was in the kitchen doing the dishes. Caitlin was in the family room playing with toys. The stereo was on and the following song was being sung by Geoff Moore:

 

There is a place more precious than any other,

this side of heaven’s door. 

A place where we love one another,

a shelter in time of storm.

And though it’s a treasure, this home’s not forever,

I long for the life that’s waiting beyond.

Where no one will ever be hungry or cold,

no one will hurt or will ever grow old.

No one will die and leave someone alone,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

There is a place where truth will always be spoken,

and promises can be delivered.

A place where your heart can’t be broken,

and loved ones will never leave.

So if you are longing for a place of belonging,

the home you’ve dreamed of is waiting for you.

Where no one will ever be hungry or cold,

no one will hurt or will ever grow old.

No one will die and leave someone alone,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

Forever no pain or disease,

all will be equal, and all will be free.

True love will come, and we’ll fall at His feet,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

And finally I’ll see with the darkness erased,

not through a glass, but then face to face,

And that’s when I’ll know I’m home,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

All will be equal, and all will be free,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

True love will come, and we’ll fall to our knees,

that’s when I’ll know I’m home.

 

When the song was finished Caitlin looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to go to heaven”, she said, “That song scares me. I don’t want to leave you.” With tears flowing out of her six year old eyes I went over to comfort her. I held her tight for several minutes then told her how that song was about how nice it will be in heaven. I said you see the tears you are crying right now, well you will never have sad tears like that ever again when you are living in heaven with the Lord. Everybody is happy and no one is sad at all in God’s kingdom. It’s OK, I assured her. I understand why it is a little scary. I don’t want to leave you either. But you know what?, after our life here on earth, you and I will be together in heaven. 

 

I just held her and wiped her tears away. It was a real special moment for me and her. A moment planned by God, that I am sure.

 

Three days later on Wednesday morning, March 29, Uncle Paul died in a car accident. Three days later Uncle Paul went to heaven to be with the Lord. Life as I was to know it would not be the same again. 

 

I can remember that morning like it was yesterday. These are my memories:

Phone call from grandpa at work

 

Paul has died …

 

I felt crushed, I was numb, torn apart, life like I knew it for the past 34 years had changed.

 

This couldn’t be, this can’t be happening, this isn’t fair.

 

What about all that was left undone for Paul.

Kids, marriage, adventure, so much more life to live.

Paul, life is not supposed to end this way, why you?, why you? Why not someone else?

Oh Paul, why did you have to go this way? Why? Why? Why?

I want to say good bye. Why so soon?

 

I can remember the last words I had with Paul. It was on Sunday evening. I had called him to tell him that we were going to have another child, we were going to fill that empty bedroom with another little baby. Rissa. We talked about what was going on. How families are neat. I asked him how he was doing. He said it was going a little rough. He said his job was up in the air. His social life was challenging. Life could be better.

 

I then asked him how his spiritual life was. He said that was OK. I said well, that is what’s important. One out of three is pretty good.

 

Those were my last words with him. A fifteen minute conversation. To the point. Personal. But so important. Paul knew where he was going for eternity.

 

I remember leaving that morning from work to go home. Walking to the parking lot to come home I felt like I was leaving half my life behind. Paul was not here anymore. In tears I drove home, broken. But a mile later as I got on the freeway a calm just flooded over me. “Paul was OK. Paul is OK. Paul is in a better place now. Paul is in a safe place. Paul is in a calm place. Paul is in heaven with Me. Paul is in a place that he knew he was going to go to someday. Remember what you talked with him about last Sunday? Paul was prepared. He did not know that his time was up, but he was prepared. I will take care of Paul and I will take care of you.” As God spoke to my soul I still hurt, real bad. But it was my hurt. Paul was not hurting anymore, forever.

Peace I leave you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. 

John 14:27

 

I was coming home. Coming home for comfort. Coming home to cry. Coming home to be with my family. As I drove up into the driveway, Caitlin came running to my car. With tears in her eyes

she said “Daddy, Uncle Paul has died. Your brother Paul was killed. He’s in heaven just like the song from the other night says. He’s not crying anymore.” We embraced and held each other as I said “That’s right Caitlin, that’s right honey.” Mommy and Tyler came out and we all cried together for the loss of Uncle Paul.

 

Family is so important to me and I want to protect my children and comfort them. In this moment it was Caitlin who was comforting me. I knew this comfort coming from Caitlin was from the Lord himself. It was as if the Lord used that song from a few days before to draw Caitlin and I together and talk about what heaven is really like. He was preparing us for things to come a few days later. She went from being frightened one evening to assuring me of where my brother was, in heaven, a few days later. The Lord sure is good.

 

Tyler’s first question to me was “Why did Uncle Paul have to die?” A question that I could not answer. I held him tight and said I did not know, I did not know. Some things in life we don’t have answers to. In those time we need to hold onto the one thing we do know, we need to hold onto Jesus. I don’t know why Uncle Paul had to die, but one thing I do know, that is Uncle Paul had no doubt about where he was going after did die. That I do know! That’s the good news, Tyler.

 

Life is an adventure that the Lord blessed us with. As with any adventure there is a lot of uncertainty, that is the exciting part. Of course some of that uncertainty is scary, sad, and really, really hurts. But just as the adventure that the Pilgrim’s went on in coming to America, there will be storms of life, that is guaranteed. In those time we need to cling to the truth that we know won’t change. The truth we know that promises to be by our sides in good time as well as bad. Jesus says that he would leave us with peace, His peace. Do not be afraid. 

 

It was this peace that the Lord covered me with as I drove home from work with a heavy heart. As I came home it was the Lords peace that came through Caitlin’s words and Mommy’s hugs and comforted me. Even though loosing Uncle Paul hurts, through this adventure I found a real living faith in the Lord Jesus Christ can carry me when I can’t walk, can comfort me when I am hurting. I grew closer to Mom, Caitlin and Tyler and shared tears together that binded us closer as a family instead of tearing us apart.

A Chilly Early Morning

A Chilly Early Morning

Early morning
Chilly morning
Late November
From inside my home
The sun outside looks so warm
Memories of the early fall morning
Until I remember the date
Camera in hand
Hand and fingers chilling as the minutes go by
How to capture the beauty of the morning
This chilly morning
With a photograph
So many possibilities
The frost on the window
Hanging between the wisteria
Cold water, very very cold water
Pouring out of the fountain
Into a pond with crystal clear reflection
Of fall colors and blue morning sky
But the shot, as if calling my name
To be taken
When I walk beneath the red-ish leafed tree
Is the sun
Beaming toward me
Its light shining through the leaves
Highlighting what beauty nature gives us
Every chilly early morning

Ike & the Old Man

 

Ike & the Old Man

It was the late sixties
I was 11
5th of 7 boys
Dad was going to play in a volleyball tournament
I tagged along
He gave me his Pentax Asahi
4 rolls of Tri-X
That’s where it started

My oldest brother, Dave
His bedroom next door to mine
Hear Santana blaring through the wall
Along with Butterfield Blues Band
… and the Blues Project
When those weren’t playing
He was on his red Guild Hallowbody electric guitar
Jaming out to an original blues tune he wrote
... or maybe Lightnin' Hopkins
... or Howlin' Wolf

I was hooked
To his music
Dave's music

Then Woodstock happened
My first image that I remember
Of the iconic rock festival
Of Carlos Santana
Shot by photographer Jim Marshall

Since that time I wanted to capture the energy
Of Live Music
On Stage
Up close
As if I am a part of the band
My instrument I play?
A Nikon

There is that split second
During a show
Where magic happens
The musician pours all their heart out
Click is my response

Their soul captured in 2-D
I can hear, in this image
Issac’s voice
His Dad, Mark, backing him up
Singing classic rock-n-roll

The Joy of Music

Beauty of Speed

 

Beauty of Speed

Speed
Beauty
Do those two words go together?
For sure
I guess it was the skatebaord, early 1970s vintage, that got me hooked.
Bombing down the sidewalks of our town
University Classroom Center at the Univ of Idaho was a skateboarders dream
Smooth cement
Smooth speed
Oh how beautiful
Probably not the words of an 11 year old
But the feeling was there.
Next up
Ski slopes of the Alps
As in Switzerland
Davos
Bombing down the groomed runs
I was 13
Chasing my older brother
Only way to keep up?
Speed
Oh the thrill
But oh the beauty
Of life wizzing by at top speed
When my eyes water
That is when life is the best at speed
Next up
My French racing bicycle
17 years old
With the question
How fast can this bike go
Fast enough is the answer
Bombing down the smooth
And windy
Lewiston grade
Tight turns
Accelerating
Then braking
To set up the next turn
I went down the hill
Faster than a car
Beauty at speed
Speed under control
Gave me a terrific sense of
Freedom
And then the ultimate
My 650 Yamaha motorcycle
A straight, flat, smooth section
Of highway 95 in Northern Idaho
Saw me visit the extent of that motorcycles
Speedometer
Tapped out
So smooth
So fast
So young
So free
So beautiful
And then I grew up

Dizzy Fashion

 

Dizzy Fashion

Fashion
Its all about uniqueness
Putting style, your style
Putting it out there for people to see.
This is Lillie
My 8 year old grand daughter
She is all about joy
Emotion
Living Today
Smiles
Tears
Whatever makes her heart jump at the moment
The life of an 8 year old.
I had no clue what to photograph
For this weeks shoot
But I was over at her house
Dropping off her 18 month old little brother
I had my camera bag
Lillie was home
Heck ... I asked her ...
,,, if she would like to do a fashion shoot
Down the middle of the street
"Sure" she said
She had 3 minutes
She was downstairs in 2
And here you have it
Lillian Browne
She chose the photograph
She chose the title
She is the joy of my life
Capturing her spirit is such a treasure.
She is all about fashion
Dizzy Fashion

Friday Night at the Movies

Friday Night at the Movies

Liveliest night of the week
What are your most rememberable “movie nights”?
Two stand out for me.
We walked to town to catch “Spartacus” starring Kirk Douglas.
I was 11
Went with my big brothers
And my little brother
During the last scene
The “I am Spartacus !” … “No, I am Spartacus” scene
My little brother started snoring
Loudly
The audience chuckled !
Another one was “Cool Hand Luke” starring Paul Newman
Again went with my brothers … cost a buck to get in.
Afterwards when we got home
Mom always asked each of us
What the best part of the movie was
Usually we had different answers for the movies we went to.
Not Cool Hand Luke
Every one of us described in detail
The hard boiled egg eating contest
Including the big fat tummy of Luke
After he won !!
Oh there is a third favorite “movie night” memory
Feb 23rd, 1979
“California Suite” starring Richard Pryor and Alan Alda
First date with a special lady
In college
Now my wife.
Friday night at the movies

Come Rest

Come Rest

Mid afternoon
On my package delivery route
Had my camera with me
Looking for some good, dappled light, shots
Beautiful scenery all day
Country roads
Tall trees
Sun peeking through
Photo opps around every corner
Day went like … deliver, shoot, deliver some more
Shoot some more
By 3pm
I am taxed
I deliver at the end of this gravel road
Past 2 barns and one shed
One winery too
I make my delivery
Turn around in the driveway
And there it was
The image
But much more
I stopped
Took the shot
But stayed there
Something was keeping me there
Looking at the hammock
But it wasn’t the hammock that had my attention
Capturing my focus
Something much bigger
I sensed
He asked me
You worn out
Rung out
Weak at the knees
Mind full of worries
???
Come rest
It is easy to do
Come to Me
You will find real rest
Real peace
Rest that that hammock
Can not provide
Will you come?
Come Rest

Sad Beauty

 

Sad Beauty

God created the world
And it was beautiful
In so many ways

I see His world

Connection is beautiful
Nature is beautiful
Structure is beautiful

My daughter
Embracing
Her new husband
On her wedding day
On Ebey's Bluff
That is beautiful

Happy Beauty

My daughter
Embracing
My wife
During the funeral of my grandson
My daughter's son
That is beautiful

As well

Sad Beauty

Connection is beautiful
Both happy and sad

Tragic circumstances does not make it
Any less beautiful

My eyes are wide open.
I see my world
And those within it.
I feel very fortunate

When I see beauty
I am moved
Wonderment
Tears
Sometimes both

But I know I am alive

Happy and Sad Beauty

Listen to the Water

 Listen to the Water

Sounds
Certain ones move me
Either relax me
Or scare me
Bring back memories
Mood changer
The sound of my grand kids laughing
While playing
Bicycle wheels whirling
On a smooth road
But few are better
Than water
in a fountain
A creek
Surf on a favorite beach
Listen to the water
Each drop has a sound
Of its own
It seems
In harmony they all pour out of the whiskey barrel
Mesmerizing
I sit under a tree
And listen
To the water
I am invigorated.

My Art

 My Art

My photographs
That I create
Have origins in my heart
My mind
My eyes
They are mine
In all their quirkieness
And "off-the-wall-ness"
So to have someone else not only
Touch my photographs
My art
But edit them
Is so, so hard
If I were honest
If I were not
I would just say
Oh go ahead and mess around with them
No problem !!
But nope.
So who I choose to make those edits
Takes trust
I chose my wife
Whom I trust whole-heartedly
Especially when it comes to creative direction
I would not let many people edit my photographs
But her
Yes
I love her perspective
I love her creative vision
She taught me to
"Crop Ruthlessly"
Zero in to the subject of the piece of art
All else is fluff
And distraction
Just a different perspective
I trust her
Her eyes are different than mine
As her black and white and up close edit shows
I saw my image
Through her eyes
Brilliant edit, Carol.

Shapes and Colors

 Shapes and Colors

Ever squinted your eyes?
While looking at a colorful garden
Or a thousand acres of wheat?
Shape and colors emerge
Edges of the heads of wheat
Blend with the stalks surrounding
Art
The ibrant colors of the roses
The sunflowers
With the huge, and green, leaves
Of the squash
Merge
Creating art
Ran across a galaxy the other day
On the backroads of my island
Went though a grove of trees
Lush green
And looked up
Way up
Squinted my eyes
There it was
A swirling galaxy above me
I stopped
Squinted my eyes
It came to life
Art

Never Knew Faith

Never Knew Faith

Never knew faith
As a kid
Word never came up
Never taught by Mom or Dad
My only faith
As with my brothers
As explained in later life
Was Mom and Dad's love and care for us
That was it
That was all
Because they did
Most of the time
But that failed
That faith could not be trusted
Broken by screaming and anger at home
My faith was lost.
Like when you hang onto the dock of your favorite swimming hole
Feeling secure even though
There is 25 feet of deep lake beneath
And then all of a sudden
That handle of the dock
Breaks
I am too tired
I try to reach for something solid to grab onto
But I cant

I drop into the deep water
And down I go

That is what my faith life looked like

But then "Faith" found me
When I was 16
The Good Shepherd grabbed me
From the depths of despair
From that "deep dark lake"
And raised me to the surface
Never to let go.
I still did not understand
Who He was
And why He did that

But over the years
He explained
And I trusted
He gave me hope
Which I had confidence in
Even though I could not see
Him
I had assurance
That is Faith to me

When the battles of life
The darkness of life
Is so close
I hold onto the dock
That I know
Will not break away
I live through those tragedies of life
Those battles that seem about to consume me
And I flourish

I have faith
That is active
Thank you Good Shepherd
For holding onto me.

Tears will Fall

 Tears will Fall

She is moving
Soon
My 4 year old grand daughter
She has lived with us for 2 years
A long time
She grew up under that tree
It seems
There is a swing hanging from a branch
This day she spent 2 hours under that tree
Playing
With her snake
She is jumping to get some leaves
For a bed for “Slithery” the snake
While she was swinging I looked over
To my wife
Tears were falling
Big tears
The days of playing under this tree
Playing with her
Will soon be over
Oh how we cherish
These moments with our grand daughter.
I was crying too
Inside
She will visit
But will not be the same
The tears are not because of loss
But of realizing the blessing
God has provided
In the everyday
Under a tree
With our grand daughter
We both love you Eleanor

 

Morning Coffee in the Meadow

Day begins
After my coffee is brewed and in a cup
In my hand

Out the back door I go
Towards
The back meadow
Behind our house
I aim for the back corner
Where two chairs and a table
Are my resting place

There I sit
There I gaze up at the morning sky
There I take in the long grass
Blown by a morning breeze
Birds chirp
Rabbits run in and out of the grass
Sometimes
If I am quite
A deer or two will stroll by

My favorite part
Is just to ponder
Ponder what is going on n life
Ponder a verse I had just read
Ponder how good that locally roasted coffee tastes
Ponder how blessed I am to have my family
My wife
My kids
My grandkids
I am grateful
The pace of life in the meadow
In the morning
Is slow
A perfect time to gaze, ponder
And drink coffee

Portal to Childhood

 Portal to Childhood

I often run across certain objects
Certain settings or places
That bring me back to
Those special years
Those years as a child
Maybe from a walk on a nearby beach
Waves crashing to shore on a sunny day
Before I know it I am seeing
How close I can get to the wave
Without getting wet
Being chased by waves was, and is
The best
Heck I am well over sixty years old
Yet I am at that moment
The 5 year old on the Mendicino Coast
Running with my brothers
Being chased by waves

Passed by a big pile of fresh dirt lately?
Last week I did
ANd actually what made it even better
Was the bright yellow
Tonka Truck on the backside
I wanted to stop and dig some roads
A bridge maybe
From the bottom of that hill of dirt
Clear to the top.
The time would stop
In my mind
The child in me would dig and move
That dirt.

I was a "big things" kid back in the day
Although I did like collecting rolly-pollies and lizards
I did not notice the tiny specks on the flowers

My grand daughter sure does though
I came home one day and she was collecting ... guess what?
"Aphids"
Later that evening it was slugs
Not your common pets a kid brings inside.

Being around her and living life through her eyes
I am transpoted into a new world of a child
She sees the world differently
As she should
Because she is "Eleanor"
She is "micro"
Does not miss a thing

Still, explores, chases, splashes, collects, builds
All the while living in the moment.

Maybe that is what is so important about thje Portal to Childhood.
Being brought into the moment, current.
How fleeting those moments are
But children can squeeze every little bit of wonder
Out of those moments.

Go chase a wave
Search for a slug tonight, or aphid
See if there are any owl-droppings under the pine trees in
Cuz I am mhgoing to go line up the rusty tin cans
In the backyard
And get out my bb-gun.

Energy of Music

 

Energy of Music

The show starts
That first note
First measure
The beat
Or sax belting out a cool vibe
Fingers dancing on the keyboard
In rhythm
All in rhythm
Playing as one
The six nusicians
That energy hits me in the face
Like a blustery day on the beach
Fresh and salty
Wakes me up
Goes straight to my inner soul
I close my eyes and take it all in
The music
Live music
Right before me
Fills me up
And carries me for the next 2 hours
The energy of music
Experience it

Glorious Flag

 Glorious Flag

I have always loved our nations flag.
The stripes mean something.
The stars mean something.
To me.
As a kid I remember
In elementary school
Standing and looking at the flag.
Hand on my heart.
Reciting the pledge of allegiance.
Those words meant something back then.
They mean something now.
I hung this flag in my front forest.
At the entry of my home.
Hung it on the 4th of July.
Had never hung anything there.
But after it went up ...
... and started blowing in the breeze
... shining the the light of the evening sunset
... our glorious flag will stay hanging in that forest.
For no other reason than what my 4 year old grand daughter said last week ...
...  when walking through the forest
She said, "That sure is a beautiful flag."
It sure is, Eleanor.
Look how glorious it is.

Pad Locked

 

Pad Locked

Intersection of parts
Of pieces
Of my life
Of my world
Meeting place
Where friction happens
Where life happens
Where love happens
Where the good stuff
Grows
Creativity blossoms
What about security?
Do you have it?
Do you not?
Feel vulnerable?
People should feel protected
Especially children
Then life can begin
In a protected space
And so the padlock
Comes to keep out
Those that mean to harm
Only then can
Life happen
Love happen
Good stuff grows
Creativity blossoms

Mister Magic

 

Mister Magic

What age were you
When a song first
Impacted you?
Hit you straight in the heart
In your soul
Sixteen is when it happended to me.
1975
I was in Berkeley, California
Visiting my cousins for Christmas
My cousin put the platter on
On a good stereo too
The cover intrigued me
First track to play?
Track 3
"Mister Magic"
The opening key groove caught my attention
As if to say "listen up"
Then some poppin' electric guitar
To spice it up
Then at 32 seconds in
Grover's sax entered
Bam
I was hooked
Never heard the sax played in such a cool manner
A musician I was not
But I knew what was magic'And this was
Mister Magic
Had a spell on me
Before that time jazz to me
Was my parents Pete Fountain vinyl
Not now
Grover Washington Jr and his R&B-ish jazz
Infused with a unique collection of flowing beats and grooves
That I still listen to today.
Mister Magic
Impacted me forever

Where is Papa Bear?

 Where is Papa Bear?

Imagination
The world I lived in as a kid
Goldie Locks and the three bears
One of my favorite stories
I always wondered what it would be like
To run into Papa Bear?
Momma and Baby Bear I could handle
Papa Bear got me a bit nervous
In an imaginative way

I'm always on the look out for Gnomes
And Lephreicans
Fairies not so much
Nor Dragons
Peter Rabbit, most definitely

So when I turned into a big kid
Sixty-Five years big
I have a forest of my own
An acre-wood
A meadow too

And there is evidence that these imaginary characters live there

My grandkids are on the look out for them
And so starts there imagination wheels
Spinning away
In wonderment
In curiosity
And when just trompsing through the forest
Looking for sticks or rocks
They ask ...
"Hey Poppie ...
... Where is Papa Bear? I see his chair!"

Wonders of the Beach

Wonders of the Beach

How long is a beach?
I say, until the wonders stop
But reality tells me
That the wonder will never stop
Wonders of a beach
My age will change
On that beach
And then my wonders will change
My mom taught be that
She always "wonderted" at a beach
I never asked her why
Her actions told me
Her slow walk
Head pointed doqwn
Looking fopr that next sand dollar
Next starfish
Next agate
If I could ask her one question
It would be
How long is a beach?
I imagine her answer would be
Not long enough
She wondered at the beach
And so I wonder at the beach
Ahhhh the wonders

Wonders Of My Forest

 

Wonders Of My Forest

Morning time
Another day
To find the wonders of the world
Lets start in my forest

And so my four year old granddaughter begins her day
Her biggest choice of the day
Explore the back meadow?
Two acres of tall grass with moles, shrews and rabbits hiding
To be found
Or explore "my" forest
Always on the look out for that elusive coyote
Or a bear
There is a bear cave so she knows that bear is around

How life should be
"Cuddle Bear" in tow
Boots on
"Follow me" she says
And I follow
Into her forest
Time stops
As she inspects the tiniest of mushroom
Or checks on her owl friends
Porcelain ones I put out on a tree branch
Cuz every forest needs owls, right?

And I follow
As she discovers new wonders this morning
The afternoon she wants to head out to the back meadow
To meet Mr Toad and Mr Rabbit and Mr Lion
That is after lunch though

And I follow

What are you thinking?

 What are you thinking?

"Excuse me ... I wonder if I can bother you for a portrait of you this morning?"
He asked what for.
I replied why ... "Class assignment!"
He said sure, and with a big smile.
Ice was broken.
He continued his work cleaning and filling the ice machine.
I did my think all the while him
High up on  ladder.
His name was Dennis
Like mine.
As I shot he gave me many smiles and eressions
I had about 6 good "portraits" of him
But in mid convo
He paused
Looked down
For probably four moments
A couple of "deep breaths" worth,
I quickly framed the shot
And click
I got the shot I wanted
Oh I don't mind the pleasant smile shots
Even the full of life expressions.
Something but this shot
Looking down
Stillness
Within himself
If only for  moment
For two deep breaths
Through my whole shoot of him
I wondered "What is he thinking?"
Actually I wonder this of most of the people I shoot
Even my wife
Kids
Grandkids
Thinking ... inside our heads
Makes ones expression and demeanor
Look different
He has that look
I will never know what he is thinking
But I can imagine.
I think it is pleasant thoughts.
What are you thinking?

For the Joy of Chess

 

 For the Joy of Chess

1971
A year spent in Europe with my 5 brothers and cousin
Mom and Dad
All in our VW Bus
A green one.
Camping in farmers fields.
Eating Spam and Eggs on a Coleman stove.

For desert?
Chess

Thanks to my Dad and older brother Dan
Both chess nuts
I caught the bug

For the Joy of Chess

1971 was the year of Spassky and Fischer
Bobby Fischer, soon to be newly crowned world champion
We played chess
Daily
In Belgium and French fields
Greek beaches
In the Alps, our chess board would be all setup

Family tournaments
More losses, for me, than wins
But I always left with knowing I could get better
I never beat Dad
But Dan, yes
When I was in my 30's !
Didn't matter
The trigger set off in my brain
When my pieces developed
When I castled early
When I actually had an end-game

I didn't know all the jargon
Queen's Gambit
Italian Defense
Heck I just played
And hoped the opponent would trip up.

I was never much of a reader
But Dan scoured all the chess books he could get his hands on
First one coming from Blackwell's in Oxford.
Dad got him "Botvinnik's Best Games"
Mikhail Botvinnik was "the guy" much before Spassky or Fischer.

I just learned that
Yesterday in fact.
I want that book now.
Ten years back Dan gave me
A huge stack of his chess books.
Much more that a wealth of knowledge
These books contained.
These books "were Dan"
And his joy for chess.

So I play
And keep playing
Maybe take a hiatus
But chess is always there
My board and pieces are waiting.
If I am white I always start by Pawn to King "4"
I am sure to win with this first move.

My kids now play.
My son Ty being taught
At five years old
By his Uncle Dan.
My grandkids now play too.
Being taught by their Uncle
My son Ty

The books will be waiting
Whenever they want to
Up their game.

For the Joy of Chess

Music of the Surf

Music of the Surf


A place where I unplug

The beach is so alluring
Calling me to come sit
Find a big old driftwood log
Washed up from who knows where
Dried out
Smooth
A perfect place to sit
Sit and watch
Sit and feel
The breeze blow on my face
A perfect place to inhale
Smell the salty sea
Washing up on the shore
Smell the seaweed
Unique and a signature to my beach
My focus though
Mesmerizing my mind
The surf
Waves crashing to the shore
Like an original song

A beat of its own
Small waves
Larges waves
Each with different rhythms
A groove everchanging
Crashing to the shore
Depending on the day
Each day brings a new song
Each minute brings a new wave
Listen to the music
The beach creates
The music of the surf

Music moves my Soul

 Music moves my Soul


I have no clue why
I just know what happens
When I crank up the volume
Of my favorite musician
R. L. Burnside always gets me
The Beatles
Any track on Abbey Road
Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass
The Four Seasons by Mr. Vivaldi
Steven Curtis Chapman playing Lord of the Dance
Earth, Wind and Fire engulfed me
When I crank up the volume
On a sunny day
Windows down
Or in my garage
With my big "college days" speakers
Blaring
That works too
My soul is moving
That rhythm
That beat
Melody
Solid lyrics that resonate deep in my heart
I connect with
Then Bamm
It is like I am part of the song
Sucked in to trhe current
No turning back now
The song takes me on a journey
Not like the last time I played it
New places in my mind and soul
Explored
The effect of good music
Moves my soul.

Solitude

Solitude 
Time to just walk 
Time to ponder, maybe 
Being by myself 
No distractions 
Find an alley 
Off the beaten path 
No one walks here 
Except this person 
Which is perfect for me 
Love the potholes 
Garbage cans full 
Lawn mowers and piles of leaves  
Rough around the edges 
The best road in my town 
Solitude of an alley 
Think with no interruption 
Let my creative mind run free 
My thoughts bounce off the alley walls 
Solitude is refreshing 
I should walk here more often 
I will be back 
To my alley solitude

In the Pocket

 

In the Pocket

One persons chaos is another persons refuge.
Was watching this drummer
Rachman
Do his thing on the drums
His sticks were moving so fast
All over the place
The beat he was playing was mesmerizing
I took three or four shots
With an internal overlay set on my camera
You are seeing the result.
The next day I ran into him at a coffee shot
Showed him the photo I created
Capturing his connection with his instrument
His connection with his music
He stared deep into the image
For several minutes
Said that the image captured perfectly
What is going through his mind
At that moment
Deep in the groove
In the pocket
With what seems to be chaos
He is at peace
One with his music
In his refuge
Time stops for him
And he plays
Feeling whole.
Playing in the pocket
In this moment
For this drummer
For Rachman
One persons chaos is another persons refuge.

Beauty of Eyes

 

Beauty of Eyes

I look at eyes differently now.
Now that I have a camera in my hands.
Want to know how someone feels?
Look at 'em in their eyes.
Their feelings are undeniable.
Joy
Sadness
Anger
Curiosity
Happiness
Anxiety
All are captured in their eyes.
With a camera
I can capture that feeling
As if it were an entry
In their personal journal
I did notr find this out
Until a trip in 2009 or so
To Chicago
When I took a selfie
Yep ... of my eye
Just one
And I "saw" myself
And my emotion
Just wish I had discovered this
Years back as a teenage photographer
I would have loved to capture my Mom's eyes
Before she was gone
Capture her emotion
Her joy, happiness, sadness

Capture someones eyes
And hold onto that photograph
Hold onto them.

Childhood

Childhood

A rope
And a stick
Is all it takes
Turning a lonely tree
Into a childhood dream
Can you hear the laughter?
The giggles?
“Push me higher than I’ve ever been, Grandpa” she hollers
I get to hang out with my four-year-old granddaughter
Five days a week
She lives on that swing
As she swings
We talk …
… and talk
As I push her sky high
Up to the clouds
That surprises me
Unexpected and actually could be the best thing
About that swing
Connecting with my grand daughter

Before I know it, the afternoon has ended
Dinnertime
Now this is childhood
As it should be
Time stops
With a swing

I remember the swings of my youth
A centerpiece of my childhood
Swings are magical

But she is gone for now
My grand daughter
Only for two weeks though
Out of state to visit her dad
But the swing sits quiet
For now
My heart is not quite as full
Oh, how I miss her

Someone last week said that this photo seems lonely.
They are right.
Yes, it does
That tree is lonely
Awaiting the laughter to return
Her laughter
And her childhood to continue

Morning Coffee

 

Morning Coffee

“Coffee Sir?”
A voice comes out of no where
As I sit at my favorite spot
At a table in the back meadow out in the middle of my forest
No one around
Except for Mr. Toad
Always there to serve
That morning coffee

I sit out here
For reasons I do not know
First thing in the morning
A good way to start my day
The sun just coming through the pine trees
Sometimes a clear sky
Lately every day is clear
But the marine layer of fog will soon come
Along with that mood
Talk about mood ...
… sometimes a mood hangs over my head
My soul
I speak words inside my head
With an attempt to describe that mood
… other times I speak just words of frustration
Complaining if I were honest
Rationalizing if I were not.


“Bothered Sir?”
And then
Once I calm down enough and be still
I hear, or feel, those words
Mr. Toad again?
Nope that is a story for my grand children
This is real
Not the first time either
I answer
Knowing that he will indeed listen
Tells me he will listen for as long as I keep coming

He holds out more than a cup of Joe, “Proper Joe”
In his hand is water
To refresh me
Quench my thirst
On these dry and dark days

He offers me living water
Water that sustains me

So my days start with “Morning Coffee”
And living water.

Free to Skip

Free to Skip

I remember those days
I feel the wind
In my face
Blowing my wavy hair straight back
Arms outstretched
Like an airplane
Making engine noises too
Now that is life
Freedom

I was that way as a kid
Able to hang back from the crowd
From the attention
From my brothers
No expectations
I was in the perfect space
Freedom

Climb trees when I wanted
Dig tunnels when me and Mike felt the need
Ride bikes with Paul
All day
On that old gravel farming road across the Palouse
Because we had not done it in awhile
Freedom

So today I skip
Still
I am 64 years old
Will feel the wind in my face
Outstretch my arms
Like an airplane
Maybe even make an engine sound
Imagining my hair blowing straight back
And I take off
Freedom

Today I will skip