Peter J. Crowley

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Monday Morning Sept 21st 2020

09.27.2020 by Peter J. Crowley // 6 Comments

A little before 7 am I roll out of bed and start the routine. Inhaler, rinse the powder from mouth. Coffee to desk. It it is quiet, not Vermont quiet but suburban indoor quiet. Palm on forehead looking down at the keyboard. My wheel spins waiting for a response. Repeated sips of Joe and the same look at the keyboard. Today this pause was lasting longer then most days. Does the music set the mood or does the mood set the music. A recurring theme today no music except for Tom Rush “Urge for Going” in my head. The mood is dark gray like the autumn sky. The first cup of coffee cooled I play Tom’s version of the Joni Mitchel song. Then Thirsty Boots, Eric Anderson melancholy is the mood that is set. Where am I urged to go?  A series of Icy winter landscapes. One posted to FB with the song. Another now posted here.

The road most traveled to Carl and Maarit’s 2008,-2014 Sunday football, frivolity and food.  My favorite world I still visit on the phone with Maarit and inside my head with Carl. Truffles with my coffee to get inside my mind to obscure reality of todays world back to my world. Just like that and it is noon time for breakfast. Hors d’oeuvre as the cucumber, tomatoes, peppers, onions and Linguica simmer awaiting the egg. I swallow the morning pills. The truffle kicks in along  as I wander through old life photos. Liz will be here soon with videos of Lilith now almost two the light of her life. Children are so wonderful lifting my spirits. There are highlights I find in the shadows. A short walk today vision is off. I’m taking steroids to help my lungs to recover from 12 days of hazardous air, ah the fire season. But I can see clearly enough to find an image and Auto Focus handles the details 1/2 block 3-5 images and back home.

Ground cover and flowers since March. May and June the garden, cooking and a few Vision Quests. So many flowers so few humans momentary interactions no real depth. Simon who I saw in Safeway in the parking lot I introduced my self we shook hands followed by a short conversation a portrait. This women and her dog Jasper on a walk in my neighborhood. I also shot a portrait of just her face. After I took the shot she comes over to me “just a minute” she walked to me to close but we old folks have so little interaction. I could not deny her she held out her arm to show me a tattoo. I feared it would be a holocaust number. It wasn’t it was a Philips screw followed by the letter U we laughed loudly.  She wandered off up the street repeating screw you with a loud joyful laugh.  Stale hot indoor air cleared late on the 19th. Out early on the 20th my lettuce has bolted, Beefsteak Tomatoes dead, other tomatoes not well late summer replaced by late autumn. Like early spring, summer, autumn is also missed. What is called the new normal that the optimists think and politicians pretend that there is going back to the old life. Fight climate change in your new Pickup, Massive SUV or any 7 0f the top 10 selling new cars, and protest against oil companies. Blame absolves you of your sins.

I don’t live in the new normal sure I wear my mask and rarely eat or go out anymore. My life is in my world of images, light, laughter, complete sentences and listening. Those who listen to me know how anti AI I have always been. Now AI scrubs away at human interaction Inara back in Zoom school there is a group of 5 who will gather three days a week in a back yard to learn and develop their social education. She will visit me once a week after pods. Sunday we went to Traditions for Kirsten to shop local and sorbet for us kids. A fruit fly on the window she though it was her new favorite bug. We alliterated Fruit Flies expanding from a tongue twister to Fabulous, French, Fried Fruit, Flies even the sorbet server joined into the loud guffaws. Out to the table we continued this silly word game. Silly has been absent from us as well. First follow the rules so we don’t get grandpa sick. May and she was able to return to visit. Lately there has been, fear and sadness in her eyes. We stop at the clothes part of Traditions to tell mom we are walking to the water but 1/2 block  on she says maybe the grassy area by the fountain will do. Our last stroll to Puget Sound from Traditions the playground was to crowded to many kids without masks she decides this from 50 yards away. Her decision to go to the grassy area was her fear. She is dealing, adjusting but there is a sense of loss. But there was French Fried ..fruit flies to bring childhood silly to return for a few minutes Sunday. But there were other highlights a trip to Westport to the cool 70’s with a breeze on the hottest day in Olympia where it reached 106 degrees. 

Upon arrival there is sun screen, a kite next the a large driftwood log that I can sit on, our spot.

My garden provided fresh tomatoes, lettuce, lemon cucumbers and visual stimulation. This flower child now a senior flower child longs for humanity. Conversations in person, lunch at a café people watching now relegated to take out picked up by Liz. And flowers in my window out my door the walks become shorter with less to see    repeated.

Old themes repeat Doors and triangles

Simplicity just light. It is always Light to share a story to appeal to humanity.  

Today’s 9/27 stroll postponed as I share light here. The afternoon showers arrive early. Yet a late afternoon walk in the golden hour. Seeing, breathing peace. 

A six day conversation with a Senior flower child and you.

love and peace

Categories // A Life in Photographic Art, Abstraction, Autumn, Color Fine Art, Fall, Flowers, Love, Negative Space, New Work, Nikon, Olympia Wa., Past life's, Simplicity, Sunset, Uncategorized, Waning light, Washington Tags // Blending the past and the present, Color Fine Art, Flowers, Humanity, Olympia, Seasons, Simplicity, Street Photography

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.

Fran 1973 72px Sad Poet Roll44 5The 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

Categories // Age of Aquarius, Amorus, Artist Portrait, B+W Fine Art, B+W Portrait, B+W Silver Gelatin, Black and White Fine Art, Coventry Ct., Eyes, Friends, Love, Past life's, Poem, Reflecting on past, The Past Tags // B+W Fine Art Photography, Blending the past and the present, Photographic Art, Portraits

October First New Layered Life

10.03.2015 by Peter J. Crowley // Leave a Comment

DSC_0074 Ss15 B+2 Lgt 50 Cnst+20 RtSd Lgt70 Cnst+20 10-1-15 - CopyMy Red Wagon

Photographic Art

Categories // Abandoned., Abstract, Abstraction, Childhood, Color Fine Art, Doorway, Fine Art, Fine Art Photographs, Layered Life, Life in Layers, New Work, Olympia Wa., Past life's, Reflecting on past, Reflections, Toys, Wagon Tags // Abstraction, Blending the past and the present, Color Fine Art, Olympia, Photographic Art, Real and Surreal, Reflections

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