Category Archives: Art

Crystal Days

With skies so blue and dry and sharp they cut into your eyes. You cry to think, was there ever a day such as this? And then tomorrow splashes red and gold on trees bereft of a single leaf, with crystal blue air extending forever behind the branches.

Also posted in Nature, Photography

New Stuff

Look! I’ve been updating this site so infrequently that now, on those occasions in which I do, it’s become actual news, almost.

First, I’ve created a new Eagle Lake gallery to house photos from the trip I discussed here.

Second, I made major revisions to the Photo Painting gallery, adding several newer (and, I hope, better) examples of my attempts at creating photographs that feel a bit like impressionist paintings.

The image files in both galleries are greatly reduced in size, while the height and width remain the same. This should speed image-loading and make for a better viewing experience. If not, drop me a note and let me know, OK?

Also posted in Photography

Sometimes The Hardest Thing

Even at my age, it’s very difficult sometimes just figuring out approximately who you are, and then being yourself.

As a writer, photographer or artist, you find that in order to be true to your craft, you must reveal a piece of yourself previously unknown. This causes you to look within yourself and examine what’s down there.

Trying Just To Be MyselfThat can be scary. The sum of our past experiences and our dreaded future, our fears and mistakes, our acts of good and evil, the height of our happiness and the depths of our pain, the breadth of our imagination and the narrow blackness of our despair, the miracle of our birth and the eventuality of our death – all of it exists inside, mixed together like ingredients in some cosmic chili.

When you create, you reach down there and bring a gob of that chili outside for inspection. Sometimes, lots of times, you’re afraid to show it – to show yourself – to the world. That which is inside you runs the gamut. It can be horrifying. It can be shocking. It can be socially unacceptable. It can be anything.

One of my current goals is to learn to be at peace with whatever my art reveals. This has not been easy, but I take comfort in the fact that art is not a reflection of the artist himself, but a reflection of what the universe has done to him.

Does that make sense?

Also posted in Metaphysics, Writing

Summers Past

The winter here has been almost no winter at all; most days so far in February have been in the 60s or 70s. I have my personal strain of tomatoes sprouted and growing under hothouse lights upstairs, and I’d go ahead and move them outside except that, warm days not withstanding, we’re sure to have at least a couple of below-freezing nights yet to come before Spring truly shows up in person.

The seasonal wait has prompted me to remember the warmth of years past. I continue to make a hobby of turning photos into something more like paintings, and when I run out of new photos to work on, I can always go back and scour my hard drive for archived shots such as:


The top one is a wrecked sailboat my wife and I found on a deserted beach on St. Croix Island a few years ago. We found it pretty incredible that, even on a weekend, so many beautiful St. Croix beaches existed sans people.

The bottom picture is a heavily processed version of a photo I took last summer, when our farm pond briefly contained sufficient water for my wife and youngest daughter to paddle upon in rubber rafts.

All too soon, I am sure, Spring will bounce past, leaving me in the steam heat where I will think fond thoughts of the possibly cool months of December and January.


Also posted in Photography