He looks fines, somedays. Sits or hangs out around the same places. Watches the street, for what we don’t know. Sees somethings we cannot imagine. Not ready yet to be put back together. Decided he needed to take a bath or a swim. Dived into Lake Champlain. Muck and mire on the surface. Left clothes in sumac or poison ivy. Covered with blisters. Chad lent him a razor. Hadn’t seen his face in twelve years.
Aging requires courage, stamina and emotional self-control. So many myths exist from the past when people stopped living in their 40′s, errr 50′s, errrr 60′s. Now, healthier and smarter, we live longer, not just exist longer. And we look better.
Brien makes art, smart art. He draws, sculpts and creates where nothing has been and nothing will remain.
Pastor Crocker saves souls, or at least makes having one more understandable. He’s a budding photographer.
And, Wight Manning. Re-enactor, historian, antiquarian. He collects paraphernalia, wears it and sells it.
So, I go down to the beach or the waterfront or Church Street with my camera and a lighting kit. Need to keep up my skills, looking, seeing, shooting. Oh, how I cannot deal with people telling me they have cameras or relatives with cameras or cell phones. They don’t understand portraits, posing or the importance of having a photograph, taken in ernest.
These two people walk by where I sit with my friend Jim and we start to talk. Kevin wants to take a walk. They will talk about whether to accept my offer to shoot his photo.
Kevin returns. Agrees to the shoot. And we talk. Seems he is a world class Bocce player who will be competing in the Special Olympics in Vermont this weekend. So, I sign up, volunteering to photograph whatever they need shot, knowing they have lots of shooters ahead of me, including the press.
Now, I have to sort through 1,500 images, shots one more beautiful than the next. What a wonderful experience Kevin shared with me and I don’t even know his last name, where he lives or much about him.
Vanessa and JJ out for a Sunday fishing expedition on the dock in Colchester. She caught a Lake Sturgeon, an endangered fish, and threw it back. True joy playing in Vermont’s backyard while respecting nature and helping the environment.
Oh, the joy of catching a fish. Makes exhilirating all the waiting and baiting, casting and doubting.
Chasing the sun brought great results today. Sometime you work for the shots. Sometime you just point the camera. Looked out the window. Couldn’t see the street. Washed my face, brushed my teeth. By the time I hit the street, the light had come up, but the fog hadn’t lifted. I could feel the wet in my face and smell the morning moisture.
Clouds covered the sun, just enough to rob the scene of its yellow. Birds screamed, unable to see their morning breakfast through the mist. Good day, if you were a fish.
Magic everywhere. Still a there, there. Clouds with nowhere to go. No wind pushing them. No waves or flutter. Water gently lapping up against the pier. It wasn’t cold and it wasn’t hot.
The sailor doesn’t care. He waits and watches. One day his boat will come. Already packed for the sea.
So, the biker remembers to bring his lock. He secures the bike. The thief, the bicycle thief, needs something to sell. Cheap bike. Cheap tires. So, he takes the seat. Wonder what he did with it?
Don’t usually shoot people wearing hats. Got my friend McQuade to hold the reflector. Never shot Bernard. My shoot loosener fell flat. “Not a good day for the Yankees. Old. Injured. And they lost.” “I don’t follow baseball,” he said.
Tough to work alone. When one of my guys finds the light, it makes them smile. All my photos become a bigger collaboration with the people I shoot.
Chad sporting a Prince Valliant look.
Scotty has his pouch.
Amy received a certificate for attending a Peer Emotional Counselling Program.
New girl in town.
So, here is a crew that cares for cars. Most of us don’t know squat about our cars anymore. To care for the car, owners need to learn, understand and trust. Then you got to be responsible. Cannot just go from gas station to gas station, forgetting about the pipes, tubes and tires. I lost at least one much loved car to bad service. Never again.
Redemption. We seek redemption for different reasons. Larry promotes a clean environment, relying on the arrogance of those who cast their containers aside after binging on the beach. He lives to drink another day, clearing the beach and adjoining land of debris. We get to enjoy the view.
Excited about their prospects. Young. In love. Living in the wild. They have friends and community. Will it be enough? And for how long? Her bird tattoo honors dad who loved birds. Mom wears the broken heart.