I remember picking up the bats and feeling older than my 10 years. I was just a boy. Still am.
Wonder if any are still alive. My brother isn’t.
My father was an asst coach. He isn’t in the photo, because he took it.
Category: photography
Starchy Serpent
Be careful when you go to the vegetable aisle. Serpents lurk among the yams.
Basquiat Not By Duckman
In photo school, they teach or try to teach creativity. Look around as you walk. Find natural frames. Examine the landscape. Imagine. Use technical skills. Breathe. Shoot. Move on without chipping.
I do and I did, without their help. I see with my eye without regard to what I think others will see, feel or want to know. I just have a feeling sometimes. Upon return to my studio, I download. Voila.
Now, why did I make this image?
Van Gogh Sunflowering
He loved to paint. Something moved him. More than creative. Misunderstood. Loved in death. Ignored in life. Lucky for him he had friends who sat for him and plants that grew for him. He painted himself a lot when he couldn’t find sitters. I can relate to that.
Mohs
Basel cell carcinoma. Don’t matter if you wear a hat. Well maybe it does if the brim is wide enough. Baseball caps don’t protect enough. But the removal isn’t so bad. Needles. A little scraping and cutting. Plastic surgery to leave no trace. Heals in a week. Be careful out there.
Looking Around
Sometimes driving requires so much attention that you miss what is going on around you.
Optimistic
While I cannot say I am healed from a temporary body failure, I can say I could do it again and would. Staying alive. Staying alive. No first aid reports here. Let’s just say it ain’t over.
Almost Salad
When the hot, humid, uncertain weather forces indoor activities, cook, watch a movi, and make a still life of the ingredients first. Broccoli Rabe has a personality of its own. So do garlic, onions, fresh corn and a legacy tomato.
Neurosurgery Counter Service
So, as we age, so does our back, maybe faster than our brains. Pain, pain, pain from every step. Stairs always a challenge. Getting up. Sitting down. X-rays. Rolling over in bed. Putting on pants. Wiping my ass.
CAT Scans. MRIs (a real joy for those of us with claustrophobia). How about an epidural? And there is always a surgical option. Want some pills. No, I drink for pain relief.
Every step of the way, Sharon sat next to me. It was as if she was the patient, asking questions, feeling the pain, sharing my emotions. Even though she has her own problems, nothing would make her happier than knowing I wasn’t as disabled as I am.
Dr. Brett Schlifka informed her, as if she was the patient. And, she did her own independent research. Great teammate.Great doctor. Smart. Caring. Talented. Likes his patients.
I learned what I could learn, rejecting the shots and surgery, accepting the suggestion to do physical therapy. Rejecting the opioids; living with the pain. So far, so good. Call me back, Brett said the other day. “Call when you need me.”
A back is a back. I have spinal stenosis. Have to be careful. Don’t fall. Maintain my posture. Respect my limitations. The only good thing about living in FL is the pool. And my life, not worth living without Sharon.
Caravaggisti Duckman
Mystery woman is a mystery to the photographer. “Carravaggistis in literature use psychological fiction (also psychological realism); theirs is a narrative genre that emphasizes interior characterization and motivation to explore the spiritual, emotional, and mental lives of the characters….” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caravaggisti
Bruce Harden died. Had I ever met him, I would have asked me to teach me how to see. https://www.nytimes.com/2023/08/10/arts/brice-marden-dead.html.