We are the Earth

Shadow with Imp, Archival Digital Print, 2024

What we fail to realize is that we are all the Earth, no different than a rock, a leaf, a mote of dust, a woodpecker or the water in the stream. All the commotion we cause ourselves and others by denying our oneness.



The Orchard, 2023, Archival Digital Photo

A view I never tired of, the orchard sits at the end of a road where you may only turn right or left. It is a reminder of the roads we choose to travel or not, always with consequences.



A Beautiful Tree, 2023, Archival Digital Print

There is nothing more to add here. The tree is perfection in front of me. A Red Maple, it sits beside the highway next to the Mexican restaurant down the road. No matter the season it is always beautiful.


A Weather Week

Walking back from the studio, 2023, Archival Digital Print

It was going to be a Spring Break, some good time in the studio uninterrupted, a simple and focused week. Instead, so far it has been week of weather, loss of power, a stuck car, too many emails, and complications from all of these things.  Today we have a thaw at least and the flock can get outside and do some picking and probing for goodies. I can proof these new plates and all my gripes will be forgotten.


Mother Moon

Garbage Cans Wait for Pickup in the Moonlight, 2022, Archival Digital Print

Even the plastic garbage cans look monumental in the November moonlight.

The heat of the day continued into the night and now

A strange November evening was aided by Mother Moon

Smiling on us,

Indifferent to our frettings,

Just happy to be a reflection of the Sun.


Random Musings in the Early Morning

Betty’s Two Icelandics at Sunset, Archival Digital Print, 2022

In the moist dark of 4 AM,

I wonder at the strangeness of thinking about the bomb and

Why are we obliterating ourselves?

How can we have handled the pandemic, which we knew for decades was an inevitability,

so poorly?

How can we be so divided as a nation?

that people even utter the words Civil War?

At what point

On what date

At exactly what time

Should we have swerved but didn’t?


The Arc of Deception

Morning Shadows, 2022, Archival Digital Print

The fiction of the on-line world originally seemed a field of play to me.

Here was the first arena of the imagination that could be shared globally.  It would be a playground of possibilities for poets, novelists, animators, artists.  I innocently imagined a playground where all the children could pretend and create as they wanted.  It would be my childhood mind gone global.  I had omitted the bullies and the hidden-under-the-rock ogres who also infest the child’s world.

So here we are with our minds stolen out from under us and now instead of creating we are all sucking at its teat and ingesting horror after horror of doubt, misinformation, unsubstantiated claims and slowly turning into wobbly, wild tribal people.