Reaching Out To, Santa Fe, 2006
THIS IS FOR JESSICA.
I met you last night and one I hope that our friendship blossoms for a long time to come. In the brief moments we had to talk, we cut straight to the cores of things and connected in ways many people still have no clue about. So, consider these photos as a way to see a little deeper into me………..
Minions Reaching for Their Garden God, Edgewater, 2010
Getting Out of Hell, Edgewater, 2008
HOT Engine. Wheat Ridge, CO, 2010.
Every Friday night, there is a spot on 32nd Ave in Wheat Ridge, where old and hot muscle cars line up on display for anyone to see and for their owners to hob-nob about their cars. I went along with my friend, Elliot, and his son, Syd, for the first time tonight. I’ll definitely be going back for more. Here are some of the best shots I took and the “shifts” I turned them into.
Speeding Towards the Sun
Columbine and Ponderosa. Shoshoko, 2008
…..is the name of a song that was made quite popular by Jimi Hendrix in the late ’60s. The very first time I heard it, I fell in love with it! What is funny about the first time I heard it is that I found it on a Warner Brothers sampler album that you could get by sending in a coupon that was found on the inner liner. Some of you may remember this fine way of discovering new music back then but many people I mention this to have no idea what I am talking about, whether they were from that time period or not. The promotional campaign was called “Loss Leaders“.
Take a listen** while you study the photo…………
There's A Red House Over Yonder, That's Where.... Denver, 2009.
Here are the lyrics, if you find you want to sing along (feel free to play air guitar b/c I think you’re safe….no one’s watching!):
There’s a red house over yonder, that’s where my baby stays.
There’s a red house over yonder, baby, that’s where my baby stays.
Well, I ain’t been home to see my baby in about ninety nine and one half days,
’bout time I see her.
Wait a minute, something’s wrong.
The key wont unlock the door.
Wait a minute, something’s wrong, baby.
The key wont unlock the door.
I got a bad, bad feeling that my baby don’t live here no more.
I might as well go on back down,
Go back ‘cross yonder over the hill.
I might as well go back over yonder
Way back yonder ‘cross the hill, (That’s where I come from)
‘Cos if my baby don’t love me no more.
I know her sister will!
** For those who want to listen to a longer, bluesier version, take a listen to this amazing piece of music!
Pickled Plums on Kitchen Windowsill, Edgewater 2010
I shot this photo with the camera on my phone, which is a habit I’ve taken to in recent months….because I take A LOT of photos of food I prepare nowadays [mostly because I have a lot of Foddie Friends]. When I placed the jar on the windowsill, it struck me as though I was standing in my Great Aunt’s kitchen in IA back in the mid-70s, when I first started to learn canning.
Canning: a lost art known, almost only, to those in agrarian areas [yes, and a lot of it happens in cities as well].
DBG Pond and Changing Trees, 2005
These are photos I’ve taken through the years that reflect the oncoming colors that Autumn graces all of us with, in all of our different spots in the world. When I moved to Colorado many many years ago, I was told that there “aren’t any real colors, just lots of yellows.” Because I came from New England, where I grew up, and spent lots of time in Iowa and other parts of the Midwest during many of those same years, I was used to seeing a vast range of colors.
I didn’t think much of Colorado’s Autumn colors when I was in and out of college….I simply didn’t make note of it (if you can believe that!!). The more time I spent in the mountains, though, the more I came to realize… Read more »
