Long ago.

Long ago and far away. Ten years. 1,000 miles.

New Mexico is in my head. I was able to put it away for a while. OnOne archived all the work it could find on my computer’s hard drive and on one of my portables.

It found images that were “lost.”

They were not necessarily lost in my archives so much as being lost in my brain. Once I started seeing them again I looked at many of them in amazement.

It was like looking at them in a dream. I can’t remember the circumstance of making them although I do remember the pictures. Clearly.

And, speaking of dreams, this morning’s dream was very cool.

I was walking in a long tunnel like the kind that are made for mines. Everything was dark. I arrived at an open place. Everything was glowing. I got in line with the rest of the workers. We were handed five gallon buckets and sent to a dark fountain.

We dipped our buckets in the fountain until they were filled with multi-color fluid. It was stunningly beautiful. The colors were bright, they jumped in and out of the bucket, they sparkled.

What a show.

Then I woke up.

Pictures at an exhibition. April is going to be all over the place.

Some photographs will be old. Some will be my kind of art. Some will be from the project. Some will be from a survey of other ideas.

This picture from the mountains of New Mexico kicks off the month.

I decided to tone it down and make it look like a dream.

All of the work was done in Snapseed. I could have done a little more in OnOne, but I was satisfied with my work as it stood.

So, this is spring.

Like summer, but not quite.

Unlike yesterday, everything could not have gone better.

Everything started out well and only got better. The air was warm, but cool in the shadows. There was a gentle breeze in the air. Not much humidity. Like New Mexico.

The all seeing dog woke up early and wanted to walk. That makes me happy. She’s been very sick. She didn’t like to get up before noon or walk. After our walk, we sat in the shade. I just sat there watching, listening, with no thought in my head. She laid down with her head up and just enjoyed herself.

I made a few pictures. I was trying to find the mood of the day. Warm sun. Clouds drifting by. Trees fully recovered from winter. Almost like summer… in some other place. That made me laugh because another blogger was writing from some much more northern place and she said she was enjoying early spring. I guess it’s all relative.

The news of the day. I dunno. Somebody turned left. Somebody turned right. They got where they were going. Something like that.

The picture. When I first made the picture the trees were green, the sky was blue with white puffy clouds racing the sun. For the most part, the picture didn’t work. The light was bouncing around so much that the sky looked mottled in the files.

So, I thought… how about something from The Hudson School (of thought)?

I study artists more than photographers. Photographers are like me. Either I like their work or I get jealous. That doesn’t help. I don’t get inspired.

But, painters? That’s another story. I am usually inspired.

The Hudson School were a group of artists who had a particular style and thought process. They worked from about 1825 to 1880. They were interested in American scenery. They were the first to paint scenery rather than portraits. In America.

I set out not to duplicate their work, but to honor it.

That’s what you are looking at. I even added a canvas finish to it.

Stay safe. Enjoy every sandwich.

A Sunday picture.

A picture to express my feelings and those around me about what happened and what’s to come. A feeling that only art can capture, A feeling that is coming close to grief. Grief for a way of life that has come to an end. A way of life that will be something else in the future. That would be okay, but everything is still hazy. There a lot of unknown knowns.

I was looking at some new David Hockney art which was produced solely on an iPad. Welcome to the digital world. I thought why not? For the bulk of my work, 95% of it is digital. The remaining 5% my be film, but I still scan it to be able to work on it.


I found some new editing apps for my phone. I started playing and testing. Most of my work was done in some kind of etheral black and white filtering. I wanted to see what it would so with color work. I made the original base layer and added more and more. Somewhere in the middle of this work I had an idea. A concept to work toward. For me, this picture is about the hard work and sorrow that goes on in a hospital in the era of Covid-19. And, grief.

It might be something different to you. That’s okay.

I’d tell you what app and what I did. I have no idea what I did. I use to write this stuff down. I found that stopping to write gets in the way of the flow of the work. And, the app? heh, heh, heh.

Stay safe. Enjoy every sandwich.

Painted flowers and stuff.

This morning.

I started by reading the last column from a young writer at NOLA.com/Times-Picyune who was terminated — a euphemism for fired — when the competition, The Advocate bought the newspaper and website. Because it was a purchase and take over the new owners had to give them sixty days notice. Today is the 30 day mark.

It is her last column because she and her husband, also a T-P reporter who covers the Saints, want to stay in New Orleans. They bought their first home in February. She is looking for work outside of journalism since there is really no place to look in the city. There is the potential of conflict of interest. She’ll still edit and report. Just no more columns which have her opinion sprinkled into them. For the record, her column caused a lot of eye leakage. But, it wasn’t sappy.

That got me thinking about my own life, my career and my changes. It’s long and winding. It would probably take a couple of months worth of posts to tell you all the stories.

Sometimes, I wonder how I got here.

In terms of places, I lived all over. I even lived in Asia. A lot of my adult life has been lived in the south. Aside from Louisiana, I’ve lived in Virginia, North Carolina and Texas. All was career related. Sometimes, I wish that I didn’t let my work drive my life.

Make no mistake, along the way I’ve lived in some wonderful places, had some great adventures and met some amazing people. The trick for me today is to keep going. In theory, even at my age, I’m not that old. But, getting older is simply the body’s way of saying if you think that was bad, just wait. So, on I go.

That’s the story. So far.

The picture. When I changed my phone system I thought that I lost photo editing software called Stackable. That’s like Lunchables, only you can’t eat it. I realized, only last week, that it still exists on my iPad. So back to work I went. I made this picture, using flowers and vines and all the stuff the dog usually sees.

By the way, she was groomed two days ago. Man, is she a pretty girl. She’s always cute, but this cut. Oh wow!

I have only one question about the finish of this picture, which I do in OnOne. What the hell happened to my watermark? I went back to the TIFF. It’s there. I went back to the working JPEG. It’s there. Yet when I export it, part of it falls off. I don’t even know how to fix it since it’s correct everywhere. Oh well.

Shimmering summer.

Sometimes, the light sparkles. After the rain. Even in summer.

Sometimes, I see it.

I saw it yesterday morning. We had a small cold front move in. Rain fell in the evening. By morning the water evaporated, leaving the air kind of cool and very bright. I looked up and wowie zowie.

I learned something about iPhone produced pictures. They look fine on the phone. But, when I open them on my iPad Pro the screen resolution is so sharp that images look very soft, almost out of focus. Now, I’m wondering…

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that I’ll revert back to a “real”camera, even on dog walks.

As far as things political go, unless orange man doesn’t make a move, I’ll be quiet. I’ll probably be talking a lot.

Golden light experiment.

I did a little experiment.

I’ve done this in the past. But, now I have the subject matter that matters. Winter trees. Bare branches. A couple of leaves. A kind of simplicity. An elegance of sorts. Nature’s spare beauty.

And, that’s the picture. Today’s picture.

Oh. You want to know how I did it. Heh. It’s a mystery to me. Even.

Autumn star.

Autumn star. Under the water. Layered. Bent. Twisted. Darkened.

Almost looks like a winter picture. When all the leaves are down. Settled in the mud. Turned into mulch. Into sod.

A short life span over.

Until next year. Only five months away. In the south.

The picture. Sometimes I’m not sure. That’s why Storyteller is experimental. I liked this picture last night. When I edited it. Today. In the light of day. I’m not so sure.

I guess like the metaphor of the star leaf. That’s life.


Fall leaves on the fence.


That’s what this latest style of digital painting is about. Unguarded and undirected evolution. I’ve had some very positive comments about some of these pictures, which has encouraged me to go forward. Even though Storyteller is mostly about experimentation and I know that often experimentation leads to “what the hell was he thinking,” I enjoy a pat on the head as much as my dogs do.

Speaking of dogs, I made this picture on a dog walk. That happens often. But I almost missed this one. The leaves are growing on a little chain link fence that encloses a tiny pocket park near to where we live. I imagine if we get some colder weather, I will be able to see through the fence before spring rolls around.

The process. It’s convoluted. I am clarifying it a bit. Once it gets clear, I’ll change it up, but still keeping it within the broad framework of this emerging style. I’m enjoying the process which is mostly about learning. Like most us, I enjoy that.

I’ve intentionally stayed away from the horrifying news out of Texas. Too many people are dying from the barrel of a gun. I just want to add one statistic and I’ll let it go. The gunman shot up a church. The number of innocent people that he killed is 7% of the entire town. Seven percent. Of one town. Let that sink in.

Prayers are requested by the usual politicians. Just what the hell do they think the people in the church were doing?

Dusk comes to the wires.

I’m often struck by the leading lines of a simple set of electrical power lines. Except, this one isn’t so simple. It also should help to answer the question about why we have so many power failures. From an artistic standpoint, this place is fun. From a more practical view, this system is a mess. No further comments are needed. Heh!

I still think I am a painter in a hurry. A change may come. When I dropped my work off for my next juried show, I was talking about my lack of painting ability to one of the owners. They have a sort of salon – workshop on Monday nights. All levels. All abilities. Three hours for $12, which seems really inexpensive to me. That’s for a model and instruction. My business mind asks the question, where can you be entertained anywhere for $4 an hour?

So. I may try it out.

This picture. One of my wire pictures made painterly. That happened in post production. Oh, and see that little white dot towards above the top wire in the left center of the frame. That’s the moon. A wide angle version of the moon. All work was done on my new iPad Pro, including adding the copyright symbol which has eluded me for a long time on portable devices. A little bulb went off last night. It’s in the emoji files.

There is some practical purpose to those things.

BTW, spellcheck wants to turn emoji to Ebola. Hmmm.