Fine Art Photographer
Past Life Eyes
Silly eyes outside and most everywhere.
Engaging warm eyes that danced in my studio.
Melanie By the Way a barista who’s eyes spoke yet no return contact post studio invite.
More sparkling eyes at Safeway but momentary are not the same. An artist’s lament.
Eyes from before. Film eyes shot with patience a desire to speak.
peace pjc
Out the door my eyes become the rectangle.
It is the light and how you use it, not the camera or film, it is the archer not the arrow.
Spring delicate, fertile full of promise. Just me and the light, ” You are living a reality
I left years ago It quite nearly killed me” [Crosby, Stills, and Nash]
CSN rolls through my mind a verse sung quietly as I stroll. Suite: Judy Blues Eyes a time of youth and promise a time for love.
I visited her today. Spring youth promise and love. Today there is a breeze.
peace pjc
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