Peter J. Crowley

Morning Light, Changing Times

03.12.2019 by Peter J. Crowley // Leave a Comment

I stroll the morning light, over the years perhaps my most creative hours. Just me wandering through the universe of color, light, composition visual words telling stories.

Windham Vt Sept. 2001

The light inspires, dances through the trees warming the body and mind.

Colchester Ct 2011

Morning the other golden hour.

Negril Jamaica 1982

Different looks through the rectangle, new places culture, Kodachrome life. I miss the morning light up with the sun. Bag loaded coffee in the pocket of my photo-vest. Negril walk till Pee Wees for breakfast. Cosey Beach E. Haven Ct. [70’s] the beach the sea the light never failed. Norwich stroll to Kyrena’s, later to Merrihews for a fresh Portuguese roll more coffee and creative conversations.

Feb. 2019 Olympia

Waiting for meds to kick in the morning light reflects on the wall and door, flashes in the mirror beckoning. The aroma of coffee turned on an hour or so earlier fills the air. Trying to stretch my dreams walking in the light of the past. Up to coffee at the desk, the dream now seems simple get out in the morning light. The body and the mind struggle most often the body wins leaving me with this.

Olympia Feb. 2018

Outside my kitchen window, maybe tomorrow I will get beyond my window of life.

peace pjc

March 29 2016

Spare change

Content! I don’t Capture content.

05.04.2016 by Peter J. Crowley // Leave a Comment

A Life in Photographic Art my second book.

My friend Scot staged this for me at his and Kats wedding in June 2010. We have a running joke.

The Wedding Photographer Who needs a professional when you have AI in the palm of your hand. CONTENT. I don’t shoot content for Face Book or any other social nitwit site. But on FB there are groups of “Photographers” who’s poorly processed images arrive seconds after exposure for speed not quality is the need for plenty of cave drawing likes. Editing hell I shot 100 pictures and I will post them all quality no bother Goodnuff rules.

“In online forums the compulsion to offer an opinion whether or not one actually knows something about the subject” Premature articulation by Doug Anderson

Posting a link to an article about another Peter Crowley I was surprised? Dismayed? Amused by how many responses were made after reading the headline wondering why they didn’t know about my career in The NYC Music scene. There is more than 140 characters to a story but the story isn’t half as important as your glib response. Most likely your “I Being” was set on stun. Here I can say pretty much anything cause I am way beyond the sub prime attention span. Artificial Intelligence isn’t so smart. There is no artificial compassion unless you listen to Congress.

Kodachrome Phoenixville Ct 1979 The John Smith House.

Thirty seven years ago people made negatives created images, art. Now capturing the world around “I” on your hand held copy machine. Then post it as fast as possible for by the time the tide changes it will be washed away by more content. The really creative folks will edit in a Photo Process preset so as to be different like everyone else. Don’t take this to serious for the only real serious things are regurgitating your political preset and of course your lunch. Smile enjoy pjc

Photographic Art “I’m Obsolete”

Too Much, of Too Little, of Too Many, of Not Enough, Projects

03.29.2016 by Peter J. Crowley // 1 Comment

Too much, keeping pace with life creating commenting moving in a direction the journey continues. Back to film the 70’s, 80’s 90’s. Swirling from age four to sixty six in a 1/250th of a second. A brief ramble through 45 years a beginning, a tease, a new book, a retrospect. Now Available Another Door Entered a sample chapter from A Life in Photographic Art

January 1974 a cold morning stroll on State Street New Haven. It was very cold but the light was perfect a thin gray overcast sun softened by the clouds. I knew I had it one image made Kodachrome 64 and walk on to the next shot. This image had a feeling that knowing you had spoken that there was more to say. The journey will go on the moment brief lasting forever created. Forty two years later the moment this moment still feels right.

April 1973 a walk in the woods of Columbia Ct. Mike Sirak’s parents home. Frozen puddles speak of the past season shivering Mike and I wander seeing abstract color patterns seeking spring in frozen Oak leafs.

The sound track was as sweet as I will ever know as the eighties dawned in Providence in love with a women then the city. The moments, multiple moments erupting in the theater, dancing across my shutter plane. I was the moment, the muse. The fall was a devastating crash, a betrayal, a pistol… seeking a place to hide.

Coventry back to youth, trust, safety unable to find the map the journey stalled at a rest area. Where is the muse?

The Dance of color, light, seeing returns slowly. The North Carolina Dance Theater invites me to dance the blues away. The muse visits, structure, determination, hope, life. The journey re starts. Trains, ferries, summer my daughter propel the journey forward.

January 2016 the station is now Olympia. The Wolf dances with the Bears the circle nears completion.

So that’s the story of my journey, seeking the highlight finding the muse. Forty Five years of visual and verbal comments on the human condition. Forty thousand images whittled down to six images and a few words here a preview, taste of my new book. Seeking a publisher investors want to be part of the journey? Email me mail@peterjcrowley.com or just contribute here start a trend, pave the Road Between Here and There

Photographic Art 1998 North Dakota the eyes of a poet sing a song of peace