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

In Crisis

In Crisis

Scared?
I once was
No where to turn
Deep in a forest
Yelling but no one listening
No one hears

I came here once
Opened that door
To one who would listen
Just listen
I needed rest
I was in fear, of everything
I had to trust that this was the place
Come in, won’t you?
He asked me

I answered, yes
I found rest
My enemies could not breach that door
My soul is restored, finally

And now …
Now I know of that battle
I go inside that room now
To listen, hold a hand
Of that one person who needs rest
In the still waters behind that door

Like someone did for me

Can you help that one person?
Who has a heart that aches
Does not know where to turn
Who need just one thing
Someone to listen to them
Sit beside them
Comfort them
Be that person, won’t you?
Help that person
In crisis

Finding My Voice

 

Finding My Voice

Deep down in my soul
Feelings, thoughts, stories, ideas
Mine, all mine
Unique to me
Have they always been there?
Probably

Years went by
They stayed deep down
Locked away?
At least on a shelf high up
Where no one could reach them
Nor hear them
Not being shared
For sure not verbalized

Would I always be separated?
At a distance
Yelling deep within a forest
With no one around to hear

But the iceberg started melting
All by reading Black Beauty to my love
At bedtime
1982

Ten years later
Speaking in front of my church
Outside in a park
I spoke of being my brother’s keeper

Some twenty years after that
I read a piece of writing out loud
In front of people I did not know
Bright lights in my eyes
I spoke
Slowly
With cadence
A piece titled "Hold Onto Hope".

Yes

I had found my voice
Completely

But Those Eyes

 

But Those Eyes

I looked around at all the people to photograph.
Forty or so
All with a unique demeanor
All over sixty years old
One might say weathered
I just say a life well lived.
Some on walkers
Canes
There was one young man
Eighteen
Had the GQ look
Handsome
And then I saw him
Locked into his eyes immediately
We connected
His eyes were so expressive
Ninety-eight years old
His eyes were shining oh so bright
His face had years and years of living
His eyes were fresh and sparkling
As if his life story was told through his eyes
Through my camera I gazed at him
At his eyes
Photograph already taken
I imagined these eyes when he was sixty
Forty
When he was a twenty year old.
The same brilliance.
But those eyes
I wanted to look into his eyes
Longer
He is a stranger to me
But I captured an image
In my mind
And camera
That I will hold onto for years
But those eyes.

Come Sit

Come Sit

Here is a seat for you
Just you
I have been waiting
For you
Come sit
Won't you?

Breath in
For just a moment
Feel your lungs expand
Exhale

Still yourself
Just sit
No convo needed
Unless it comes to your mind
Coffee?
I like coffee, and bread
When I sit
Did you see your thought flash by?
In your mind?
Watch it's vibrant color
See your emotion float the other way?
Feel it's sadness, or happiness
They belong to you

I have been waiting
For you
To come sit
Just sit
And be with me.

I am glad you came.

Will I see you tomorrow?

Perspective

Perspective

What am I missing?

I just focus on what interests me
Passing over a huge bucket of beauty
A three year old sees the world uniquely
I follow them for an hour
Seeing their world
Perspective of a kid

An afternoon spent in the meadow
With a beautiful lady, my wife, and her sketchpad
I watch
For three hours
On how she sees
On how she articulates
On how she feels
About the same three hours I am living in
Our three year old grandchild is with us too
Same meadow
Different experience
Two different perspectives



Afterwards I am fascinated
By what she saw
My wife and my grand daughter.
Their view is different
Their view is unique
I value both of these people
And their perspectives

All of today
The day after
I will ponder
Ponder their view on beauty
On art
On drawing and painting
On the simple wonders of the meadow.
On being together
How three hours seemed like 3 minutes
When submersed in beauty
A beautiful meadow
Together
On a beautiful day
With beautiful people

Perspective is a beautiful gem.

My Place of Peace

 My Place of Peace

Peace
What the heck is it anyways
Always has seemed to be elusive to me in its meaning
I know it when I see it
When I feel it
I grew up in a hectic world
So early on I knew no peace
No place of peace

Until

Someone told me
"Peace I leave you.
My peace I give you."

I mulled those words around for years
Slowly I started to find peace
A fullness of the moment I am in
The hectic world around me stops
Contentment comes over me
I see the harmony of the colors
I feel the beat of the drum
No matter that my surroundings is so loud
I am at peace
I feel peace

Sometimes I just sit
And read
Those words on the page
Bring me peace

A walk in the meadow
With my grandkids
Hearing their laughter
Across that meadow
Brings me peace
That is peace
Given to me
Left for me
To be at peace

Curiosity

 

 

Curiosity

See
What is down there?
Inside
That crack in the fallen down log
A bug crawls fast, fast
Into the shadow
Peek closely
Pull the bark back

Oil painting and all its facets
Apply the paint really thick
Pull the brush through
The bright blue into the deep purple
Look at that!
Bring in the deep green
Streak that forest green through
A deep forest valley is created
Step back
Exhale

Listen
Waves crawling in on the rocky beach
Hey what is that?
A rock moving as the waves recede
Rocks don't have legs
With pinchers
Quick
Turn over that rock
That the pincher legs crawled under
WOW !
That creature knows me
Cuz it has stopped and is pointing his arms, his pinchers at me
Like an orchestra conductor
He is little
I am bigger
Kinda big

What is next for today
I pull out my camera
She pulls out her magnifying glass
We go explore

Cross of Christ

Cross of Christ

Up on the hill
High above me every day
As I scream through life
My speed of life
Bumps in the road?
Yes, many, many
Oh I have those smooth sailing type of days
When skies are sunny and blue
But then around the corner
Yep there are the potholes of life
Will I ever just slow down
And just stroll
And look up
To that hill
With the cross
The three crosses
That cross is my anchor
What guides my life
My daily
My everyday
Always
It is there always
Yesterday
And tomorrow
Always
Will  I look up?
Yes today I will
Look up often
To that Cross of Christ

Classy

 

Classy

You are classy
Classy in the way you say hello
Classy in the way you talk about your day
Not just the ordinary
Something unique is said
Your words are classy

You have that look
The look of classiness
Pearls with denim jeans
That type of classy
Elegance wraps around you
As it always has

You focus on others
So classy
To do this
So interested
In what someone else's journey
Someone else's struggles
Someone else's victories

Age is never a requirement
To be classy
You were when you were eighteen
Just as you are now
Many decades later

The funny thing is
You most assuredly do not think of yourself
As being classy
Which is so classy

I Love It Here

I Love It Here

I love it here
She said
While strolling on her favorite beach
On her favorite island
Her home.


I am not far behind.
Actually, I have placed my rear
On a big driftwood log
I like to look out to sea
She likes to look down the shoreline
I look for sailboats
Or freighters
An intriguing image
To photograph
She looks for shiny things
Seaglass in particular
Or shells

We are together
Although we go at different paces

We are both soulful
Both taking in the breeze
The sound of the waves
However small
The smell of the saltwater

We end up back at the starting point at the same time.
Her with a pocket full of shells and seaglass.
Me with 300 photographs

We end up with a deeper connection
With each other
With our island

We love it here
Especially when we are together
Here

Meter

 

Meter

Tick Tick Tick
Goes my time
Goes my day
Not keeping track
No
Just keeping time
I can't hear that meter
That keeper of time
But I know it is there
Sometimes I blow a whole day
Eating the junk food of life
Other times are different
I grasp the whole day
Both arms
Dive in and live
Live today
With family
Hugging
With friends
Listening
Creating
What He brings to mind
Stillness
Hearing the spirit touch my heart
Those tick ticks are well spent
I remember those ones
"Be still and know I am God"
Is my meter
The one that matters
May I live today
Knowing my time is well spent
And have that meter tick tick tick
With His love

A New Day

 

A New Day

It was a struggle.
Yesterday was.
Getting up this morning was.
Is.
But I made it.
Down to the marina.
And the gift?
To see this beauty.
A new day
Beginning.
Slate is wiped clean.
Begin again.
Will today be different?
Make the most of today
This new day.
Make a difference.
Touch someone. I will.
My special family.
My grand kids especially.
Dig in and take this day with
My entirety.
Create.
Work.
Enjoy.
Be grateful.
Ohhhh be so grateful.
For this new day
That He has given me.
But mostly ...
... look and see all the beauty
He has created
I marvel in it.
And breath it in
This moment
At the beginning of a new day.

Friend

 

Friend

Walk into a room
Or a Pub
Look around and there they are
Friends
The gems of life
Being known
Sharing life with
The good times and bad
Argue with?
You bet
A friend can take it.
You know what I like best
About a friend?
I do not have to prove anything
Anytime
Just show up
And be me
Acceptance
We aren't even from the same backgrounds
Doesn't matter
You are my friend
Now lets go do life

Colors of Life

 

 

Colors of Life

 

Life moves fast
A pace that is many times too fast
Often my grand kids come over
To play
To explore
To adventure
These times are when life slows
We wander
We wonder
And we squint
Squint at a garden full of roses
To see if the colors change
Hey they do !
Next stop, then garden pond
To dunk our heads under the surface
To see if the colors change
Hey they do !
Next stop, the front forest
Tilt our heads way back
Looking straight up
Will a bald eagle fly by
Nope, not this time
But a squirel climbs higher in the trees
Next stop, the back meadow
Will our deer friends be back there?
Taking a nap in the tall grass
We do see a mamma deer
Baby must be close by
We crawl through the grass
On all fours
And see the colors of life
Through the eyes of my grand kids

Connected

 

Connected

What holds me down
What propels me forward
My roots do.
Which my life flourishes from.
Connected
Planted
Years ago
Generations ago back in Colorado
Oregon and Bohemia is where
Those roots gained strength
Growing with strength
Children created more branches
Reaching out into the world
Exploring and spreading
Spreading beauty
With each generation to come
Where will my branches go?
They need a foundation too
Solid roots to grow
Flourish
Connected
Stay connected to my web of life
And see what beauty blooms.
Grandchild number seven
Due any day now
And the web grows

SkyBlue

SkyBlue

Music heals the soul
He told me
SkyBlue told me
His soul needs healing
He told me
Needs healing so bad
So music is where he spends his time
Music is where he opens his heart
For the notes and lyrics
To mend parts that hurt
His refuge
When I found out his story
After a music gig one night
Images I take of SkyBlue
Now take on new meaning
I can see his passion
That passion he sinks into his electric guitar
That passion he belts out in his vocals
Is actively mending his soul
I want to capture his story
This musicians story
In an image
An image that will last
Music heals the soul. 

Reflection

 

Reflection

Reflections have always intrigued me.
It is rare when a reflection matches the subject exactly
Walking down the street who hasn't looked to the side into a store window
To see what one looks like?
Was the reflection what you thought it should be?
Me neither.
My favorite was at the county fair
The maze of mirrors
A ton of reflections
Of me
Big Tall Skinny ones
Short wide plump ones
The whole maze was full of children's laughter
Was I the only adult in there laughing too
Nope

People in my life
My past life
Have reflected to me
What my life looks like
What I look and act like
But a few of those people I should not have trusted
They reflected a "Me" that was not accurate
Not who I was

And it hurt
Hurt me

Be careful who you trust to reflect who you are
Truly are.
For you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

The Edge

 

The Edge

Wonder brings me to the edge
The divide
From one world to another
From sand to the ocean
What is out there
Way in the distance
Deep beneath the dark blue waters
I look over my shoulder
Where I came from
In my past
But my journey is ahead of me
Out there
Past the edge
One foot dips into the chilly water
As my journey this day continues
Beyond the edge

Joy of Music

 

Going to a music show tonight
Rock and Roll will play
The musician makes his Breedlove acoustic guitar sound like a creek high in the Cascades
A wonderful singer songwriter
His lyrics are moving
And then comes that promised rock and roll
Making that Fender Stratocaster scream like an American Muscle Car
The energy is contagious
As if he is the guide on a rafting trip down the River of No Return
Exhilaration is what I felt 

Next song is different
A groove like no other that evening
And then this expression spread all over his face
Joy
All night he had been entertaining us
But this song joy covered him
Something about this song
Playing his song
Brought out joy in him 

I caught that image with my telephoto
Captured and bottled up
In a photograph I call
Joy of Music
The music continues

Quiet Waters

 Quiet Waters, by Dennis Browne

There are days in my life
Where the stress
The frustration
Build up to such a point
I just need tranquility

Come to me, he says
I am all about calm
I am all about quiet
Peace
Paddle beside me
Next to fresh beaches
Driftwood placed like sculptures
Feel the stress leave you
As you paddle next to me
Listen to the water
Dripping from your paddle
Feel the breeze
In your face
As time stops
As you paddle next to me

Look to the left and you might see
A dall porpoise perhaps, maybe a curious seal
Feel refreshed yet?
Keep paddling
Nothing to fear out here
These waters
Were prepared for you
Come revitalize
Come paddle beside me
On my quiet waters
You will be in need of nothing
Only what is beside you
On these quiet waters
As you paddle next to me

by Dennis Browne
https://dennisbrowne.smugmug.com/

Music Heals the Soul

 Music Heals the Soul, by Dennis Browne

Music heals the soul
He told me
SkyBlue told me
His soul needs healing
He told me
Needs healing so bad
So music is where he spends his time
Music is where he opens his heart
For the notes and lyrics
To mend parts that hurt
His refuge
When I found out his story
After a music gig one night
Images I take of SkyBlue
Now take on new meaning
I can see his passion
That passion he sinks into his electric guitar
That passion he belts out in his vocals
Is actively mending his soul
I want to capture his story
This musicians story
In an image
An image that will last
Music heals the soul.

The Beauty of Water

The Beauty of Water, by Dennis Browne

Walk with me
Won't you?
Get close
To the wonders of the world
Look closely
Frozen in time
Fluid
Yet solid
That beauty of water
So soft
Yet so powerful
Time stops
Beauty then presents
Itself
Look closely
The world will present its wonders
Its beauty
Its power
Its gentleness
Feel the chill?
This what I see
On my beach walks
Come walk with me