Peter J. Crowley

Fine Art Photographer

Christmas and the New Normal Version 2, thoughts from 12/15/25

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Another wet gray day it is hard to see Christmas today or this week. More like March and with that
“when will the rain stop feeling.” No one says New Normal very much lately. A recent search for a 1998 transparency yielded these images. Smiles sent to you to see through the gray malaise this season. peace joy color love.

From my Norwich days a couple of a very red Amaryllis 

Perhaps not technically my best work but I love red and perhaps a bit of influence O’Keefe figures into my mind.

Old Orchard Beach Maine as a child summer meant a trip to Portland and the beach.

Summer 2000 or there about The Florence Griswold Museum great place to breath in creative air inside and on the grounds.

The International Fly In Moosehead Lake Maine mid eighties with Bob. 

Autumn in New England most likely Ct. Bright young Maples

Back to Old Orchard a nineties trip with my daughter. It was a fun vacation for us two.

Chris Torkelson who was a great advocate for train travel, his daughter looking out the window of the owners private sleeper car.  We were headed to Brattleboro Vt. and the excursion was sold out so we rode in style.

TEDs a staple of growing up UCONN or not growing up at all. I prefer option two. Today a visit from Nathen Hale Ale Brewery.  March 1989 the previous days snow continues to melt. If I remember correctly there was more snow to come.

Ice Cream by the Carousel Watch Hill R.I. 2001

 

May we all come together to share love, kindness and peace Always

 

 

 

 

A Day in Northampton Summer The 80’s

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Most days now I am up early sometimes even out for the morning light. More flowers on my walks new inhaler better breathing, less inspired by the flowers but the air is cleaner. Birds singing, children  playing rarely close enough to catch but a glimpse. In my mind I am a child part of the chorus of glee. Inside it is me, Miles, John, Duke, and Oliver.  Searching my archives seeking my Photo Journalism for the Connecticut State Library. The haystack is full of distractions never printed negatives, old favorites. I live here in memories, stories of happy times before the world I loved died. It is said an artist creates for themselves. I enjoy folks seeing my images but not enough to live this day on Anti Social Media. The anxiety of hate and hopelessness amplifies my stress with a negative effect on my COPD. So here I will be telling stories living in my own time. Just me, Inara Wings of Fire, Dragons Life a virtual life. Liz shops and we garden with an occasional vision quest. 

Summer Northampton

Omelettes,  BLT’s  a cold soda. Start or finish  a day trip.

City Taxi pre-Uber I imagine Smithies rides to Amherst  for parties, the days game, an autumn afternoon. Just around town or sitting on the bench waiting for friends returning from home after a break. Another time another place.  At an outdoor concert 1985 two stages, Tom Rush, Jerry Jeff Walker many in the crowd scurried away for the food concessions stopped in their tracks when Jerry Jeff started to wail not the country music they expected. Settling in again as a strong breeze blew some of their Cocaine of the mirror. No one was upset I’m sure there was more. 

Catching some rays on the Y’s fire escape. Perhaps a human perhaps a dummy we never spoke. Many days spent in Northampton an oasis of creativity, studios, gallerias,  trendy shops, and cafes. Pretty people a blend of old and new architecture. I would go up to Amherst Wednesday to help layout the Valley Advocate after the Hartford edition began. I was the first staff photographer in Hartford.  Working full time as a paste up artist 2nd shift at the Hartford Courant surprisingly I often was sick Wednesday nights recovering at the Advocate in Amherst. 

Back to her dorm just a silhouette rushes back, a days classes ending, a forgotten book? So many tales these walls hold Dorms eloquent designs from the past well kept telling stories of prestige. One of the Seven Sisters dating back to the late 1800’s originally all Women’s Colleges.  Barnard, Smith, Mount Holyoke, Vassar, Bryn Mawr, Wellesley, and Radcliffe were given the name “the Seven Sisters” in 1927, because of their relative affiliations with the men’s colleges.  The schools are also sometimes referred to as “the Daisy Chain” or “the Heavenly Seven.” The name Seven Sisters is also a reference to the Greek myth of The Pleiades, the seven daughters of the Titan Atlas and the sea-nymph Pleione.

Composing in the viewfinder.  How I work I saw this light my angle was right for the detail I wanted of the two people on bicycles. A second shot squared up the frame  frame but in 4-5 seconds the two were gone. That image doesn’t make the grade. No Photo Shop, no crop seeing the entire frame subject and negative space.  My process, technique no screen to see if I got the subject. I got it I knew seeing the details not just the subject.  Dance, theater, movement understanding I had to shoot 1/2 second prior to create the moment I wanted. One image at a time fire cock fire. Process often three bodies in the bag slow Apx 100, TriX 400 or 800, color negs or transparencies. TriX the in hand body for most trips, Rarely shooting the same image in both B+W or Color seeing in B+W but noticing a color image switching cameras. The big bag full when I left, Free to see whatever on a journey. Now a little bag a decision of what to carry  when I head out. Then often seeing an image for a lens didn’t have in the bag. Having two diggies has alleviated  that somewhat. A roll of TriX sits in my home I may try to manually focus with a Nikon F next time? No room in the bag for 3 bodies and four lenses. 

Always time for a cookie, a scone or Portuguese Sweet Bread strolling Fox Point in Providence in love. But those days by the bay on cobblestone streets a memory that has burned off like the morning fog. Another time another place. 

 

Today there will be new memories that will burn off like the fog by a new bay. Today I’ll visit the 80’s a time of process, love and a hope for a highlight. Peace

peace pjc

 

Figures, Sculpture with Light Motion Classical Forms. Abstract Figures prior to Photo Shop

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The female form a subject of mine and the rest of the art world forever. Arnold said I was a lazy sculptor followed by his laugh. The movement of the body through the image frame mesmerizing in it’s beauty. Light dances around the curves. Strong stunning form. I’ve been asked why no men? I agree with  Elaine [from Seinfeld] “women’s bodies are a work of art men’s bodies are utilitarian for getting around like a jeep.” 

But the eyes of a model, sometimes you know right away that the connection is right, again it is the eyes. Her eyes are my eyes, my eyes are hers, speaking volumes to those who listen. They speak and dance in a language that only we can hear it is magic! We work, talk, laugh and the time disappears. She is a mirror of my reason for creating, an alphabet for me to comment with, we dance this creative minuet both thinking we are in control both knowing that neither of us is, there is only the moment it is brief, lasting forever.

Shapes created by light, eyes and wonder is there. Figure studies of mine are favored by collectors. More then half of these connoisseurs of mine are females. 

      A simple torso study much of my work is highlighted by it’s simplicity. A difficult concept to grasp. There is no need to understand why an image moves you. What is important is that it does. 

Way pre Photo Shop the 80’s I began exploration of the figure abstracted.  Creating an alternate environment often gravity free.  The image below could by hung with three different bottoms. 

Four if you can handle the breasts at the bottom. It simply does noting for me that way. So much of my work will never be seen this portfolio has over 200 negatives. Many not printed or scanned. The Connecticut Archives will be home to my journalistic, documentary work. But my art has yet to find a home. 

peace pjc