An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Daily Archives: August 13, 2011

Near the reversing falls, Blue Hill, Maine


Plein Aire, Blue Hill, Maine


Six Word Journal:

Sunny/hot/plein aire/blissfull day



Dragonfly found weighted down with water on my front lawn. G. gently lifted it to the planter so it could have space to dry it's wings unhampered by the wet grass. Soon it flew off.


The process:

Monthly trip/ Bangor, Sam’s,/ Moores/Walmart

(for Bianca’s favorite litter)(none Ellsworth)

photos/Walmart/Ellsworth/clammers/for painting


Six word Journal:

monthly shopping/Bangor/money saving/done





Today would have been my father’s 95th birthday.

We weren’t especially close in the way people think of as close.

There weren’t chats and sharing, a pat on the back, or hugs, kisses.

That wasn’t him.

But over the years I’d get a glimpse of who he was as Karl,

not my father.

What he was like as a person,

not the quiet, nondemonstrative, man of few words at home.

When I remember him talking

it was about teaching.

Driving was one thing.

He’d talk sometimes as he drove,

giving hints of things we needed to know…

“Read every sign,

you never know when it might be important.”

“When you leave the highway,

it will seem like you are standing still going

the slower speed…

that’s why the small towns are called

“speed traps”…the cops know that people

will go too fast.”

We went to ball games, he taught me how to keep score.

And, fishing, he taught me how to cast, and troll,

and keep quiet so not to disturb the fish…

or him.

He taught me about the business world,

in only a few words…

speaking an observation

of what worked or didn’t work for displays

or psychology of pricing.

He loved to dance,

I think he probably had a wicked sense of humor.

He drank “after five pm”…

but often declared, “It’s five somewhere in the world.”

We didn’t see much of each other thru the years,

and he disappointed me

when I was in rehab in January, 1992…

it was the month before he died,

and he, my mother, and brother,  decided they wouldn’t come

to family week,…it wouldn’t be a vacation, he said,

it would be a waste of money.

But I learned a lot from him,

by osmosis or the little things he did.

Children learn from the example their parents set

by how they live their lives.

And so it is.  Missing someone I hardly knew.


.PS>  while I’m thinking of it, one of the things he liked to

do was show how he could type the alphabet backwards on

a standard typewriter…I say standard typewriter, because,

he could type FAST…and that was a feat in its self.

And tho we didn’t find it,

it is told he used to write and that somewhere was a folder with

his writings in it…Dad, I hardly knew you.


My father, date of photo not known.