Peter J. Crowley

The Editing Process, Time Travel……

02.20.2016 by Peter J. Crowley // 3 Comments

Youth still seeking a ladder to my tree fort. Early 70’s on the way back from a Stratford News assignment only in my twenties but looking back to tree climbing, secret places. Some many images, experiences so much life.

Mountain from Manchester Ct. days

A concert in someones yard with Mountain offering free dogs. He never slept and always smiled. Once on a 19 Foot Daysailor with a couple of friends, a foggy day off Bridgeport, mountain eating cashews “can I have one?” “They’re electric.” Sure eat a couple and drift on a windless day into the now colorful fog. When a Texaco Tanker appeared 100yds away the capt. said we should get out of here the ship didn’t see us and if it were closer we would capsize. Home to the Capt. house where we had fried chicken with his dad a Minister we didn’t eat much just picked at the food and watched. Then up to his bedroom to review a copy [1st edition museum quality prints] of Dante’s Inferno with original etchings by Durer Whoa what a long strange trip.

Cosey Beach 1972-3 on my walk many miles traveled since yet I still walk and seek the next image the next adventure. The next moments of childhood. The big sister leads the youger brothers linger. A new book is in the works early edits some shown here. Tales that highlight my life, the image an imaginary biography.

enjoy pjc

Photographic Art More childhood

The Seventies or for Those of us Who Didn’t Disco “The 60’s” Version 2

02.13.2016 by Peter J. Crowley // 5 Comments

There was always “The Muse.” 1973 just started seeking, unsure of direction, not knowing the muse. Francis a friend from High School who I loved sweetly. We didn’t really date but our closeness was intense perhaps scary. Later I would realize I loved all the muses. She was a romantic realist we shared that outlook. Her in NY me in E. Ct both missing childhood. An afternoon by the pond in back of the “Museum” her parents home in Coventry. Where in High School we would hang out a very magical place and time. Four years later we played, created, a kiss and laughter for a few hours we traveled back to the garden.

The Sad Poet

I last saw Fran in the early eighties we were both struggling with demons. I was back in Coventry after being assaulted, pistol whipped in Providence while losing the love of my life. Fran struggling with a marriage. We were both in Coventry we hung out smiled over lunch. We will get together again soon. She called I was busy she going back to NYC, me chasing lost love. She said good bye, I was sad confused wanting to see her but trying to find…………The demons took her I never saw her again.

peace pjc

Photographic Art The Seventies a Dancer by Francis’s Pond