My Life in Words and Pictures
A photographic journey with the written word . . .
“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.”
“And I thought about how many people have loved those songs. And how many people got through a lot of bad times because of those songs. And how many people enjoyed good times with those songs. And how much those songs really mean. I think it would be great to have written one of those songs. I bet if I wrote one of them, I would be very proud. I hope the people who wrote those songs are happy. I hope they feel it's enough."
One of the first destinations when I moved to New England was where the eastern edge of America meets the Atlantic, the Outer Cape beaches of Provincetown. Exquisite motorcycle roads, hiking, music and art all in one magical place. Years later, I am thrilled that my photograph, “Consciousness” has been juried into the Bowerstock Fine Art Gallery’s
“Modern Male Exhibition”
373 Commercial Street
July 5 -July 23
Opening reception: July 5, 5 to 7 PM
There is a place in Co. Clare, Ireland that reveals stories of days gone by more than any other. This is the home of Mary Doority, age 92, resident of Kilfenora. Mary was the one of the first stops of the late David A. Lang when he came to Ireland. David stayed in Mary's barn across the street and painted numerous watercolors including one of this old cabinet of Mary's that remains in the same attitude from that year it was immortalized in David's watercolor.
"He lived there in the unsayable lights.
He saw the fuchsia in a drizzling noon,
The elderflower at dusk like a risen moon
And green fields greying on the windswept heights.
‘I will break through,’ he said, ‘what I glazed over
With perfect mist and peaceful absences"
An intimate performance of "Paper Wings" atop a Massey 35 inside an abandoned Irish church, now home of a master mechanic's garage . . .
Each time I return to Ireland, I try and pay a visit to "Maude's House" which is only accessible by walking along a wooded path that follows the river through a most enchanted forest. The path eventually opens to a gated entrance to what was once a fine tidy farm owned by a County Clare woman named Maude. I have photographed what remains on numerous occasions as the ravages of time take its toll. The residual memories of what remains reminds me of our impermanence.
Upon arrival in Ireland, with a sleepless night and an all day drive behind me, I accidentally arrived at this abandoned 6th century monastery.
"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself."