I’ve lost the news article today that quoted residents of Le Marais about the recent ban on smoking cigarettes. And it’s been awhile (2017) since taking a vacation in that hood. Still, it felt like home. The history is sobering.
Click an image for full size
Like trying to explain to a horse, I’ve been struggling to explain to myself, what I want. So taking a hiatus/retreat/sabbatical/down time/hiding out for awhile.
This blog has two purposes: An audience of one and an outlet for my voice.
Time to write, carefully. It will be a quiet time. Here and at home.
Maybe, as Shirley Horn sang, September.
Not making this up -actual SpaceX quote about today’s launch. Was reminded of my first marriage – which unknown to me in 1970, would be – see below.
The crews of USS Thresher (SSN-593) and USS Scorpion (SSN-589) paid for my safety aboard USS Andrew Jackson ( SSBN-619)
Unlike me, they are on Eternal Patrol.
As a Submariner, I only made two Surface voyages. Both, were as one of six Enlisted Sailors and a LTJG, as a USN security party aboard Merchant Marine converted WWII Victory Ships: USNS Norwalk & USNS Marshfield.
It was a long time ago. Charleston to Rota, Spain or Holy Loch Scotland were about 10 days, each way, at about 17 knots. Good chow and decent twarthship racks.
We kept watch on a cargo hold of Polaris Missiles. Thermonuclear weapons included. Monitored temperature and potential leaks of hydrogen isotopes.
Had an M1911A in a holster, riveted to a desk. Of boredom, on watch, I would field strip and reassemble the other five stored there. Like solitaire. After awhile, I would do it with eyes closed and time myself.
There is great spiritual peace to be found, alone on the fantail at 0300, mid Atlantic. No light pollution and the stars are clear.
Both ships have been scrapped, long ago. Memory continues.
I am greatly looking forward to burrowing into a stack of books and finding my voice about the Art of Photography. Still, there are irresistible distractions!
Like making photographs of beautiful, healthy, well loved children at an extraordinary Elementary School. I had no idea that graduation from Kindergarten was a ceremony until a young neighbor and teacher and fortuitous confidant clued me in. So I went and made photographs. Norman Rockwell would be proud!
Today, anticipating a long, peaceful weekend of good food, monographs and medium bodied bourbon, she brought a stack of Thank You Notes made by six year olds after they saw my work. And reduced this 220 lb, 74 year old curmudgeon to a pile of goo and tears.
Child’s name is Anvi – a Hindu name meaning “reflecting on divine knowledge”, “breath of life,” “soul,” or “spirit.”
Early this week, I made photographs of a Kindergarten Graduation Ceremony at a wonderful nearby school where a young neighbor and dear friend, teaches. I finished the edit this afternoon. Gave her a USB Drive to share with the School, Faculty and Parents. Without parental permission, I can’t show them here. And BTW, anyone who thinks teaching is easy, in spite of being a Fitness Buff, she was wiped out from long days at the end of school year.
But I did have permission when I made this photograph. And I could not stop thinking about the fact that this young woman, guiding the very young dancers here, was adopted, from a far away land. And pray every child has a good teacher.
Cary Ballet Conservatory “Aspiring Dancers” 18 May 2019
Sometimes, especially for old photographers, sleep is elusive. This, from almost exactly six years ago, was a child seeking refuge from Stage Fright. And the image has stayed in memory. I know exactly how she feels.
Cary Ballet Conservatory “Aspiring Dancers” 18 May 2019
Late in 2018, I decided to let go of film & medium format cameras. New digital versions were astronomically expensive and the film versions were costly, in money and time.
This photograph is from a last portrait session with a Pentax 645N Film Camera and Kodak Ektar film. Had the film processed and scanned the negatives myself. The process after that is just the same as a Digital Negative.
But that’s not what this is about. It’s about Art and Artists. Which explains the rolls of Ektar film in my frig., that fit my 1914 Kodak Autographic Junior & 1925 Kodak Brownie Model F.
Old guy, responsible me, has been mulling selling my post widower, post house sale purchased, 645 Digital Gear. Nah. The Muse Provides. I got plans.
Portrait Session at Cary Ballet Conservatory – May 2018
As I explained to my young neighbor, it’s all her fault! Bringing her dumpster rescue dog to visit after her work day, to visit and talk story.
And I told her about the N.C. State Vet Student who was fostering this rescue that was her proof of ability to spay. Who I connected through a connection of dog rescuers. And volunteered to a make adoption photographs. And we did!
By now, I though I’d be further along, organizing and curating a dozen years of work at Cary Ballet Conservatory. The delay is mostly due to the luxury of quiet time and vivid memory. And reflection. An example is this photograph.
Eight years earlier, her Mom hired me to make photographs of her First Communion at the Church Altar. A new and agreeable Monsignor literally gave his blessing to me working during the Mass.
Cary Ballet Company: Space & Tech Rehearsal, 13 March 2019 – Cary Arts Center
One year later, nearly to the day after I made this photograph, there was another Space & Tech Rehearsal for the 2020 production – just days before COVID cancelled pretty much everything. And that Fall, I became a widower.
Things sort of got back to normal by late 2022 – but my “creative spirit” tank was on fumes and I retired.
Now my goal is to share what I learned about Craft and Art. Working on that!
Today, FedEx delivered a lens that I’ve spent six months searching for. Bought my first copy around 2010, just as it was discontinued by the mfr. Paid $1,400 then, a sum of intense discussion between my newly corporate laid off self and my late wife. But embarking on my encore career, I’d promised myself I’d never miss another photograph of an actor because I lacked the right gear. That it was a youth theater performance, was to me, irrelevant.
Sold it after she died, with a bunch of other gear, no longer used or needed by a retired photographer.
And then recently, volunteered to photograph, pro bono, some Elementary School events. Which caused me to look for a replacement that was, like a Hens’s Tooth, not to be found. So, bought some almost wannabe lenses that just didn’t resonate. And will be sold soon. Here’s the bittersweet part.
Covid changed everything. And caused an exciting, beautiful young dancer to return to Latin America. And unable to cope with his illness and crushed dreams, ended his life.
Made this photograph nearly 15 years ago, on a weekend. Hiding out from some of my late wife’s about to visit relatives.
North of Hatteras, found an off season, duck hunters motel in Manteo. Cheap. And like the song “Sheets so thin, I could see myself grin”. The National Seashore is open 24×7. 0430, fuel up with guys filling boats with ice and gas.
Later, got a pre-dawn, cursory glance from an ATV riding Park Ranger, patrolling the beach. My tripod explained my presence.
So I was left in peace. It is, in a way, a prayer.
And my plan is, in about 10 years or so, or whenever one of my vital parts hits its expiration date, my ashes will be scattered, about three miles east. In compliance with North Carolina State Law.
Which allows that maybe, 100 years from now, I could be a speck of a kids sand castle on Nag’s Head. And so it goes
This afternoon, nearly demanded an outdoor excursion, especially ahead of two days of forecast rain.
I visited what I consider a cathedral, the Wildflower Garden at Hemlock Bluffs Nature Reserve. A 19 year old lens and a beater camera body with 146K clicks on it. Old and worn, like me. Click an image for full size
Bit of dog sitting today, for a young neighbor. We had treats, play, snuggles and took the air & sun. She was however, properly leery of my camera gear. So I assuaged her apprehension. And she was ready for her close-up!
Sometimes, you just need to go out to the bridge and play. Salvation of the Soul.
Listening to the 1958 recording by Tony Bennett, sometimes, inhibits sleep. Maybe because of the Cole Porter lyric.
Or maybe, because of some photographs I made at Camp Lejeune. The day of a year long deployment to a far away land, of danger, long ago.
And I told a very young friend about it today. And I showed her these.
“Every time we say goodbye, I die a little”
“Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little”
“Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know
Think so little of me, they allow you to go”
“When you’re near, there’s such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it
There’s no love song finer
But how strange the change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye”
When taking out the trash, a ready camera is always a good idea!
I made this photograph in January of 2022, about 10 months before age & widower grief convinced me to retire. And I remember being struck by the artistry of a very young woman. Told her that plainly, afterward, in the lobby, in the presence of her father.
This evening, at A J Fletcher Opera Theater in Raleigh, I watched her dance the lead role in the ballet “Coppelia”. I can’t even imagine the work she’s invested in her craft since. But I know great art when I see it. Makes life worth living.
Brooke's Blog 