R.I.P. Border's, and Other Old Friends

I take pleasure in perusing the racks of books at Borders and other bookstores, new and used. I wander aimlessly through the thousands of volumes at the Big Chicken Book Barn. I have a library of what some would consider useless books at home, ranging from art related biographies to lessor known treasures such as Sibley’s History of Union. I can pick up any of these and read by candle light without fear of batteries dying. I love the feel of paper under my hands as I turn the pages. In my reference books I can make notes on the sidelines, circle the passages that inspire me, scribble and draw scenes I have interpreted from the writings.
I realize the electronic world is overtaking us faster that we realize. I deal with it daily in my work and non-work life. I begrudgingly went into the world of digital photography, I am a licensed Amateur Radio Operator who is stuck in the middle…I don’t do Morse code so to some I am not a ‘real’ ham and I really am not a huge digital fan…I like to talk to people..you know, voice. Another thing getting lost in today’s society.
Oh well, what can I do? I will still peruse the bookshelves, visit libraries, talk on my radios and shoot more film in my 45 year old camera….things actually look pretty good in my future now that I think of it!

A True Portrait

The next time you are at a zoo, an animal park, or see a program on television depicting caged animals, stop and think for one moment what you are truly seeing.
I’ve always had strong personal feelings about caged animals with the exception being in the case of injured/disabled animals living in expansive “naturalized” enclosures.
At a past meeting of the local photo club, which I am a member of, the subject of the month’s contest was “Portraits which evoked emotion“. When you think of portraits the first thing that comes to mind are the standard photographs of people either taken in a studio or in a natural setting.
What I was about to view evoked emotion! A member of the Club, who takes portraits for a living, entered two photographs that, as far as I was concerned had more impact than many I had seen that night.
She laid out on the counter two (usually only one is allowed in competition, but as you will find out, one would not work without the other) 5”X7”, Black & White photos, neither framed nor mounted. Just two bare prints.
With a great deal of emotion she shared with me what led her to take these images. The first being a side profile photo of a baboon’s face with almost the entire image being out of focus. The main part of the image which drew you into it was the baboon’s eyes which were in sharp focus and were glancing directly towards the photographer with an empty feeling being shown. The second image showed just the baboon’s furry hand. Reaching through the wire mesh of the cage and gently holding one of the photographer's fingers.
I stood there mesmerized by the two images, so different but still connected solidly.
She was at a zoo with her daughter in the primate section. As she stood looking around at the surroundings she observed a baboon in it’s cage watching people passing by and very few even stopping to look at him. The forlorn look that the baboon expressed drew her closer and she spoke to it. As she talked, he came closer to her. Stopping to stare into the photographer's eyes, allowing her to take the first photo of his face.
Gently, the baboon then reached through the cage and grasped her finger and lightly held onto it. They both stayed there, watching everyone pass by with little acknowledgment by the other visitors. Eventually a gentleman approached, curious as to what was going on and why this bond was happening.
The baboon, upset that he might have to share his new friend, reached out with his other hand and grasped the photographer's leg and drew her closer with no signs of aggression.......only friendship.
Eventually, the intruder had to leave, and when he did, her leg was released.
They continued to hold hands for some time longer; a true bond had been formed.
The loneliness of this creature, and the story that the simple pictures told were what moved her to submit these into the competition. I had to leave the meeting early before the images were judged. If she did not win, it is a true shame.
Next time you walk past any caged animal, stop and speak to it. What they both experienced was very personal and she knew of the special bond she had been graced with.

You Have To Wonder

Walking down the street you wonder. Wonder about what is happening. What is happening all around you? You know what your life entails. You know what you are doing, what you just did, what you are about to do. The real question is just what is going on around you.

You walk down the street and there is the guy sitting in his car, staring right straight ahead, jaw slightly open; Beside him in the seat lays a opened envelope with what appears to be formal papers just dropped from his right hand resting on the seat beside him. His car is parked outside the entrance to a lawyer’s office. Divorce papers, closing on a house or what? Make you wonder what the rest of his day will be, heck, what the rest of his life will be.

You walk down the street and meet the patented beautiful young lady, dressed to the ‘nines’ strolling towards you. Tears welling in her eyes. Why? You wonder what makes someone who appears so strong and successful so vulnerable. Love lost? Found? Life lost? You will never know.

You walk down the street and there is the young man, a teardrop tattoo on his face, in the corner of his eye. You have heard what that means, someone died at his hands. Mock statement by someone wanting to fit in with his friends? Or, did someone look into his eyes and that was the last thing they ever saw? You wonder. Or is he the kid who just got out of his suburbia bed, warm and toasty, fed by mom who just gave him his newest credit card last night and told him to try and not wear that one out so quick…with a smile on her face.

Walking down the street, you just have to wonder.

Setting Sail

WORD; a unit of language, consisting of one or more spoken sounds or their written representation, that functions as a principal carrier of meaning.

I am by no means a writer. I consider myself more of a thinker. But as we all know the two coexist in a very cozy world. To give you an example, my grammar is not the best, but at 55 I have decided to tune myself up and get with the program. For instance, when I was a freshman in High School back in 1969 I was taking French, against my better judgment but with the strong persuasion of my Guidance Counselor in the hopes that I would move on to the halls of higher education in four years. Right. Well, come mid year exam time I was called into my French teacher’s room for a meeting. Monsieur Noyes sat me down, looked me square in the eyes and said; “Dick, why are you taking French? Because I have spoken with your English teacher and he says you are having enough issues with your native tongue.” Enough said, for the rest of the year it was Business Math for me! In other words, English was not a strong suit for me.
But I must try because I have throughout the years discovered the impact common words can have on individuals and whole nations, whether fiction or fact, their strength is amazing. I have puttered along with some short stories, poems and commentaries. Some of which I will share, others remain too personal.
Bear with me during this journey; it could be a strange trip for all of us…hold on!
Could be Hell, it will be!