Distant Mountain = FreedomFrom the Book "Show Me the Way to Go to Home" photo by Sandy Sugawara

   Silence, terror, and time often collaborate to overshadow the physical and psychological wounds inflicted on Japanese Americans during World War II. “Show Me the Way to Go to Home” is a glimpse into America’s betrayal of its citizens and the grievous loss by those interred and a hint of the opportunities lost to the rest of us because they were interred. Incredible, sensory-rich images fill most of the book. Poems by survivors’ family members, artifacts, and historical notes provide additional emotion to the photo journey.

   Sugawara was aware her parents were incarcerated during the War, but they seldom talked of it, saying those days should be left behind so that the people could move forward. Just before Sugawara’s mother died, she asked Sandy, “Why didn’t someone speak up, why didn’t other Americans stand up for us?” Shortly after her mother died, Sandy and her friend, Catiana went looking for answers. Their journey, the people they met, the pictures they took, the objects they found all weaved together to create the texture of this magnificent book.

   The two photographers spent the next years visiting ten of the incarceration sites, interviewing people, finding images, and stirring up memories of those years. Books like this are difficult. Sandy’s parents were incarcerated not Sandy, it’s really not Sandy and Catiana’s story to tell, they weren’t there…except, they did it. They told the story from their perspective and remained objective by combining today’s images, poems, and descriptions with yesterday’s mementoes, recollections, historical footnotes, and linking incarcerates’ names with current, well-known personalities from each incarceration site.

   The sites were all abandoned, mostly empty and desolate, and all in remote, inhospitable terrain. The photographers’ images capture the physical and emotional essence of the sites. I could feel the hot wind blowing sandy grit into my face and the oven-like heat roasting the soles of my shoes. I could hear my feet crunching through the desert sands and the creaking boards of rotting buildings.

  The book captures a living story, a monument to the incarcerated people and a beacon to all of us who can learn from the incredibly unjust act of having armed men rip our neighbors from their homes to board trains and buses to carry them hundreds of miles from their homes to these camps.  In America. We did not do that to German Americans. Or Italian Americans. 

   The book has many images with some text. Each site’s section has a one-page description before the set of images. At the beginning of the book are two poems by descendants of other survivors. At the end of the book are images of some historical objects, photos, legislative history, and an essay by Dr. Donna Nagata, “Intergenerational Impact of the Japanese American Incarceration.” A binding attachment is a booklet with images of some of Sandy’s father’s wartime collectibles, kept in a box and not seen by Sandy until after her mother’s passing.

   The book is a perfect balance…a peek at what was, a step-by-step walk-through today’s remains of the sites, and a glimpse of what that historic period means to the survivors, their children, and the rest of us.

   The book is a work of art and is available at Radius Books.

Cover, "Show Me the Way to Go to Home" Photo by Catiana Garcia-Kilroy

Seven

Birthday 7 haunts me like the bzzzzz of an angry dentist’s drill.
That day’s dream was a red bike with handlebars like a Texas longhorn. 
That day’s truth was a backside whuppin’ for a now unremembered 7-year-old’s stunt.

Remembering the whuppin’, that’s the easy part, a broad, strop-like belt
Artfully wielded over my underpants clad bottom,
Accompanied by screaming and anger and searing emotions.

Other birthday memories have come and gone from those early years
But none remain where I can reach. 
I got the bike.  But, birthday parties fade only to that single day in May.

The reality of the bike’s ride was as good as I’d dreamed. 
And ride I did throughout the town and into the places I didn’t know 
Where I found that the going was better than the getting there.
And…oh, I discovered the coolest thing ever, adrenaline.

On a sunny day, less than a month from the infamous birthday,
I was reaching new heights of airborne prowess and speeds
Previously unknown or even imagined in my adrenaline soaked brain.
Suddenly in mid-jump, my bike betrayed me and went in a direction 
Quite opposite of where I’d intended while my body stayed obediently
Ballistic stopping abruptly on the edge of a newly poured concrete curb.

And then, I discovered pain. Pain like no other I’d known and without end or ebb.
Gathering up my wounded bike I sobbed my way 
Through neighbors’ yards telling them all was okay and my arm was not broken. 

All night I lay in agony with the throbbing, searing pain
Bemoaning the betrayal of that evil red Schwinn and wondering
How I could modify its obviously flawed design 
Into something worthy of my derring-do.

Next day’s doctor’s visit 
Added a plaster cast with metal brace, and, 
A story to my life.

Walk to WorkDock on the Potomac

EarthquakeComing of Age

EARTHQUAKE

I sat next to my grandfather on the floor where he'd fallen.
He lay twitching and shaking from the brain bleed
that would kill him just moments later.
Watching him die,
all that I learned about
love and life
fanned out before my 14-year-old eyes.
Wanting to help him. Terrified I didn't know how.
Then he was gone.
I was alone.
Certainly now the world would
pause or salute or shed a tear.
But nothing slowed;
few noticed.
Nothing changed.

Except me.

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On February 18, 2023, St. Emma Military Academy and St. Francis de Sales High School will be highlighted in an event hosted by the Virginia Museum of History & Culture. If you've followed my blog for the last couple of years you might remember images of the ruins of the two schools. The property began its story as a plantation using enslaved people to build and maintain the large estate. In the 1890s Katherine Drexel (later St. Katherine) and her half-sister's husband Edward Morrell bought the property and founded the two high schools, St Emma (boys) and St Francis de Sales (girls) for African Americans and Natives. St Emma was the only military academy for Blacks in the U.S. The two schools graduated more than 15,000 in 70+ years of their existence. 

The schools are crumbling and in ruins but the alumni are energized and doing their best to ensure the memories and legacies of the two schools remain alive. The event at the Museum will include photos from years past, an alumni discussion panel, and an historical presentation. I encourage you to come to the event, parking is easy (right behind the museum) and the information will be cool. Imagine a military high school in the middle of the woods...isolated, focused, and proud. Their last Commandant was Father Egbert Figaro, an inspirational leader whose imprint remains!

For more information and tickets ($20) please click the link. This is an important part of Virginia and U.S. history, one that must not be forgotten.

Cadet Alums of St Emma Military AcademyCadets talking at an event in front of St Emma in 2022.

St Emma & St Francis de Sales PosterPoster advertising event at Virginia Museum of History & Culture Riverview of MansionKnown as the Big House during the years that St Emma was active Virginia Museum of History & Culture

Welcome to the world, Mae. You will make it a better place!!

The image is a Christmas tabletop village scene taken with a macro lens and then fiddled with a bit.

Holiday SceneTable Top Holiday Village

The Holidays come at us fast! And LOUD...endless traffic, honking horns, brazen lane changes, caroling, excited little voices, Hallmark movies, "everything's on sale," and more and more and more. Sometimes it's like we're drowning, immersed, surrounded by the sights and sounds of this happy, over scheduled month. But not for everyone; for some, life's fabric is torn...missing loved ones, pets, relationships, places, friends that used to mesh to help soften the din. Quiet isn't refuge or peace but a crashing silence of alone. The gift of time and caring might help, and we can give those without sales or coupons.

Day's EndSun setting over a flock of ducks in the winter.  

This morning and I'm not sure why, I looked at a picture of me that someone took last weekend and Oh! My! God! My hair is white!! WHITE!  It was just a day or two ago when I was in the barber's chair and saw a tiny bit of grey. So...I'm pretty sure that some NOAA-induced super-snow cloud brought a cold, freezing breeze into my room last night and left me with this Jack Frost do! People will not recognize me. And law enforcement!! If they look at the me on my driver's license, they will arrest the new me for kidnapping the pictured me. 

But then I look at my profile and the plot (and me) has thickened! And, I have a beard. It's white, too!! Maybe I am taking on the earthborn persona of Tim Allen's Santa Clause. It can't be that I'm getting old...too, too many things still to do. Are those cookies?

Snow!Snow fall in my front yard several years ago

My father was a poster child for stereotypical Norwegian emotional aloofness. He was never mean and certainly never abusive, but he had expectations for me, and mirroring, I for him. When the two sets of expectations did not intersect, and they did not more often than they did, conflict or escape ensued. Not physical conflict, but intellectual battles with few rules. The winner was logic-based but sometimes victory came by might; the might exercised by, “Go to your room!” Occasionally, I’d head to my room at the beginning of the debate. Escape.

We had few things in common and we shared almost nothing that was mutually delightful…except for fishing. He loved to fish---river, lake, ocean, and stream, that adventure was all fun for him, I don’t remember seeing him have much fun at anything else. Except work.

I enjoyed fishing, too, but with a slightly different bent. I loved the early morning air…the smell of dawn on the lake, the quiet rush of a river or stream, the fog slowly lifting, the unspoken promise of a possible bite, and then the battle to bring the fish to the net. For my dad, the reward was bringing the fish home to eat, influenced I think from young adulthood in the depression. He would reach into his tackle box and find the perfect lure for the spot we were in. He’d carefully attach the bait to our lines and give me general casting and retrieval guidance…we would connect, and the day would begin together, an alien concept for our relationship. 

For me, that was enough, that was the pinnacle of feeling good. Because, well, the fish were beautiful, gorgeous, shimmering creatures perfectly adapted to their environment. When they fought for their lives while connected to me, that was a physical and spiritual moment, like I was sharing with dad. I didn’t have the same need to bring the fish home, oftentimes I’d “lose” the fish at the end of their fight. Other times, I’d release them when he wasn’t looking. Sometimes, I’d have no choice but to land them, hook them to a stringer and later turn them into something quite different.

What’s left? What’s printed on my psyche and my personality are the hours, minutes, and seconds ending with a brief, fleeting connection between me and the fish. And me and my dad. And then the release. My father died in 1993, I haven’t fished since.

Lonely LakeLast days of fall at Burke Lake

ConservatoryLewis Ginter Botanical Garden view from Rose Garden Flower

We visited Shirley Plantation earlier this week. The place is remarkable for several reasons including the family still lives on the second and third floors and that it's the longest, continuously operating farm in America. The house required twelve years to build, 1723-1738. Originally the labor was supplied by a mix of indentured Europeans and enslaved Africans but by the time the house was completed all of the labor was enslaved Africans. During the Civil War, one of the enslaved Africans, Siah Hulett Carter, escaped the plantation and went down the James on a boat and discovered the Union ship, the USS Monitor. He joined the crew of the Monitor remained until the ship was sunk. He stayed in the US Navy until he was honorably discharged in 1865. He returned to Shirley Plantation for Eliza Tarrow who became his wife. They moved to Philadelphia where they raised 13 children.

The family supports the preservation of the property including tours of the first floor of the house. Several of the out buildings remain. Most of the materials that were used during construction were manufactured on the property, including over one million bricks. The video is of the land side of the house, the river side is one of those below.

River View Of Shirley PlantationLooking from the river towards the house. Note the scaffolding. Chicken CoopCurrently a chicken coop at Shirley Plantation KitchenRoom in the kitchen building at Shirley Plantation

LoveFall table top

My dad worked for Armour & Company in this plant, the same building, from the time it opened in about 1929 to when he retired in 1976. The plant was how he defined his life. He retired because in those days when you turned 65 they made you retire. If such a rule hadn't existed, he probably would have worked there until he died. For the last years of his employment he was the general manager...he'd started as a supply clerk in '29 and over the years did most of the jobs in the plant. He knew the work, knew how to do the work, and knew the people. I worked there during the summer for several years while in college. Being the boss's kid wasn't easy until I started working the cleanup crew at night. They asked only that I do my job, it was VERY hard work and in the beginning I had trouble. However, many in the night crew busted their asses so they could come to help me...a great memory. I don't remember all their names, Detraz, Peterson, many more. And Louis Kraft from the condemned room area, a cool guy who loved to fish. I was treated extremely well by one of the members of the management team, Joe Stahl. He was the best, knew the people, knew the work, knew how to talk to my dad, something that I never learned.

I went back to Huron in 2016 & 2017 for my 40th & 50th HS reunions. I wandered about during the 50th and ended up on the east side of town. The dam at Third Street always fascinated me, I understand it's different now. The railroad bridge above carried trains across the country; Armour used to have a spur just east of this bridge, dedicated to the plant. The railroads would alert the watchmen who would open the gates on both ends of the plant. In they'd go, decouple the cooler cars and head out the other direction. I remember one year there was a derailment at the spur and several of the cars came tumbling down the steep embankment.

A lot of memories from my Armour days...I think the Mens Club Christmas party at the Isaac Walton club was the most fun. When Armour sold the plant, my dad was very sad, when the plant was abruptly closed just a few years later, he was heart broken. He knew the people that worked there, as well as the community in general, would be hard pressed, but he was very Norwegian and so couldn't let the emotions show.

The first image is the old front gate at the plant. I was a watchman there. Everyone that worked on the plant side (not the Yards) entered through that gate. "Back in the day" Coors wasn't available in South Dakota because it was not pasteurized. In Coors' home state, Colorado, "empty" truckers would throw several cases of Coors in their empty, chilled trailers and head east, Armours in Huron was their last stop before they loaded up with beef for the return trip. If I had been lucky enough to be working when they departed the plant in Huron I would have ordered some beer. I would know when they were returning and would have picked up my case or two...$5 a case at this gate. Bootlegging? No.

The second image is the ruins of the "box building" I think. Not sure, it was built later. My dad explained that when they switched to only killing hogs, things changed...many, many things. Everything went out in boxes, no more cars filled with sides and quarters of beef.  When I worked there they were still killing beef and hogs. Although, I do remember the billy goats that led the sheep up the ramp to the 6th floor. My dad called them "Judas Goats" because they got to go back to the yards after they'd taken the sheep to the kill floor. 

The third image I've previously posted but wanted to look again...it's the Third Street dam and the railroad bridge. Armour used to cut ice from the James and Ravine Lake, pack it in the "ice house" with hay and use the ice to keep the meat chilled in the summertime. Eventually the ice house was no longer needed and was torn down. I remember that a builder, Vern Groves I think, bought some of the wood and built a couple of houses at 13th & Ohio SW. Armour used to pump water from the river. I'm not sure exactly why...there was a pump house halfway between the river and the plant. I believe at some time they pumped stuff back into the James and that wasn't very environmentally friendly. I remember dad was happy when the water treatment ponds were started just east of the plant. Speaking of the environment...Armour used to have a very tall smokestack which would bellow smoke from the meat packing process. Normally the wind blew from west to east so you'd never smell the plant but once in a while, the wind would shift. People would complain and my dad would say, "That's the smell of money." Eventually they closed the ovens that caused that smoke and changed to high efficiency. environmentally friendly machines, however, the smokestack stood for many years after that. My dad was very proud when it was finally taken down. In fact, he spent most of his time figuring out how to keep the plant going. The building was very old and was setup based on early 20th century procedures. He was constantly afraid that Armour central management would close them down for inefficiency. He was especially worried when Greyhound of Greyhound bus fame bought Armour.

The last image is Armour & Co memorabilia that I still have. My sister also has some. I looked for an Armour & Co museum to donate but apparently there is no such thing. I am pretty sure my kids won't want this stuff so it'll go in a dump heap some day. Kind of sad when you think about how important the meat industry was to the industrialization of America. Railroads were extended to move livestock. Chicago and Omaha were meat packing giants. Dial soap was Armour. Who doesn't remember singing "Armour Hot Dogs?"  Like the plant...all gone.

Armour & Co Entry gateThe main gate that most of us used to get into the plant. Guard shack and the rest are all gone Huron's Armour & Co RuinsThe remains of the box house. Huron's Third Street DamOld dam at 3rd Street and railroad bridge crossing the James River and highways Armour & Co Meatpacking MemorbaliaSoap from the 1940s, Letter Openers, Jug, Sapphire Tie Tack from the Greyhound days

Last night, Diane and I went to the Broadway in Richmond production of "Wicked" in the Altria Theater. The singing and acting was fabulous! Each cast member was outstanding and the performances of the two witches, Lissa deGuzman and Jennafer Newberry were stunning, powerful, and compelling. The staging, costumes, lighting, well everything was spot-on for the songs, the stories and the performers. The show was fun, it made me smile and laugh and wince. I say wince because the story was about the witches before and during the story we all know in the "Wizard of Oz." Wicked's story is about being different, being ridiculed, making friends, falling in love...  The next time I watch the "Wizard" I will be overlaying the story and performance of this play onto the story and performance filmed eighty-five years ago that I still watch today.

The image below is a composite from my images and stock images.

"Wicked" Witches' StoryComposite photo from my images and Stock Images

That got me thinking about amateur photographers and what makes a “professional” photographer. Some professional photographers look down on  photographers who do other work besides photography, what some of them call “…hyphenated photographers.”

I’m a hyphenated photographer, so was my dad, so are most photographers. Vivian Maier, a photographer-nanny, is probably the most famous of us. I admire photographers who rise to the top of the commercial photography business, it’s a tough, competitive, passion driven occupation. But that’s not for all of us…I carry my hyphen proudly…father-photographer, husband-photographer, IT-photographer, retiree-photographer. Perhaps one in a thousand of my photos rises to the level of “professional,” but most rise to the level of making me smile. And that certainly balances the burden a hyphen might carry.

ForgottenForgotten dock on the Potomac

What made me really smile was to see all the honey bees! They were everywhere and that, well that's a very good thing. I know it's hot but the flowers are spectacular and the Festival has games, dairy cows on display, and other stuff. Because of the heat and storms, the flowers may not last, they are already starting to droop. The farm is not far away from Short Pump and I know the Alvis family would appreciate your business. I'd been there for maybe 45 minutes and then it started to sprinkle and my equipment does not like the rain. Or maybe it was the humidity!

Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms Sunflowers at Alvis FarmsSunflowers at Alvis Farms

The story was a timed, ten minute writing exercise.

It’d been a long day with oppressive heat, air so dry my skin was parched and my nose hurt from spikes of dried mucous. And the wind, oh my God, the wind never stopped. Howling, whistling, crackling seeming to intensify the hot, dry air. I only had a short distance to run to the barn and I could almost feel the cool and dark of that strong building. I squinted my eyes to keep the fine dust out and started down the road. The wind seemed to calm a little and I looked up, softened my squint, and slowed my pace. Where the fence met the street a small whirlwind, a dust devil, was just beginning its mad rotation. The calm abruptly ended and the 6’ high dust devil began to grow and to move.

Doubling in height in just seconds, the small twister seemed to leap over the machinery and charged directly at me with bull-like intent. The wind and sand on my face was the constant slap of a porcupine and my vision began to narrow.

The noise was horrific, like standing next to a train or a jet engine. The little dust devil was now over thirty feet tall, roaring like a freight train, and almost black. And then, it wasn’t.

It was gone.

Sunrise Over Apple ValleyApple Valley sunrise looking over the Mojave River Apple Valley SunriseSun peeking over mountains east of Apple Valley Mojave Desert Joshua GroveGrove of trees outside of Hesperia, CA

Civil War MuseumCivil War museum from the James River Emancipation & Freedom MemorialOn Brown's Island in Richmond, VA Bridge Across the JamesBridge with personal memories of the three days in April 1865 when Union forces entered Richmond Triple Exposure of Richmond Bridge James River and the RailroadTracks and machinery next to the James in Richmond Civil War MuseumWater wheel at the museum

CarytownDouble exposure of Carytown street scene CarytownCarytown street scene

Self PortraitWaterfront bar and restaurant overlooking the Potomac in Alexandria

I enjoy this park. It's right next to everything, airport, interstates, pentagon, river, and more. But there's peace and beauty to the landscape enhanced by the occasional statue or marker. I'm pretty sure that Lady Bird would be pleased. Not easy to get to but worth the trip.

Crashing WavesMemorial to those in the Navy and the Merchant Marine in the Lyndon B. Johnson Park Monument OverlookMemorial to those in the Navy and the Merchant Marine in the Lyndon B. Johnson Park overlooking Washington Monument

The James River and the railroad were significant in Richmond's history. Trade goods were brought up the James on small ships but could not go further inland because of the rapids. Consequently, a canal was built so that goods could be transferred to flat bottom canal boats and continue the journey. The railroad began to grow in Virginia and the canals were abandoned. I was on a walkabout on Friday on the canal and suddenly I was standing on a track. At first I thought the track was abandoned because I'd come on it so suddenly, but then I looked out toward the river and saw the bridge in the first image below; I looked the other direction and saw hints of the Main Street Station off in the distance. Not abandoned, not a place to stand for very long. I continued my walk along the canal and came to the art corridor, the second image. A quiet place to spend time with some cool views and unexpected discoveries.  I'm still learning about RVA.

Richmond Railway BridgeThe bridge near Main Street Station crossing the James River and Mayo Island Richmond Canal WalkIn the art corridor

Peeking InHome of President Tyler from 1842 until 1861 or so.

I Love YouArt on the waterfront in Alexandria, VA RoilingPotomac River viewed through railing

Chapel at St Francis de SalesTriple Exposure

The next image is the main altar at St Francis de Sales. Slowly, time and vandals are robbing the place of its former glory.

Altar at St Francis de SalesRemains of the altar, slowly crumbling

The image below is taken from the granary to the barns. Only sharpening and some exposure correction on this image.

Granary at St EmmaView from granary to the barns at St Emma This image of the fields taken from the granary uses infrared effects to sharpen and emphasize the colors in the IR spectrum.

Granary and Barn at St EmmaInfrared effects image through the granary entrance looking towards the barns This image is taken from the bottom of the hill looking up towards the mansion, what the St Emma students called "The Big House."

Looking Up "The Hill"Looking along the fenceline up the hill towards the Big House at St Emma, once the mansion of Belmead Plantation This last image is where the plantation owner, Cocke, killed himself on December 26, 1861.
Suicide Steps at BelmeadSteps where Belmead Plantation slave owner Cocke killed himself the day after Christmas 1861.

St Francis de Sales HallwayLooking down a hallway from the abandoned nave in the African American school for girls, St Francis de Sales Side PewsPews or chairs at the side of the nave in St Francis de Sales school for African American girls

Entry at Belmead on the JamesEntryway where guests arriving by land would be greeted

Low TidePotomac River in Alexandria, VA, at low tide.

RisingMorning at Burke Lake

He was many things in his life. But, the best for me was his friendship.

Bob KingBob King telling it like it is.

The room was created by enslaved Blacks in the 1830s or 40s. When the building was completed the Philip St. George Cocke family moved in. He and his wife Sallie had eleven (11!) children. I imagine that children occupied the room and the children would have enslaved Blacks caring for them.

When Philip St. George Cocke killed himself in 1861 his youngest child, Ann, was 4; his oldest, John, was 25. Cocke's wife died in 1872. John stayed on the property with some number of siblings until the property was sold at auction in 1879. I wondered if the room was empty for many of those years. When the Morrells bought the house in the 1890s they created St. Emma Military Academy for Boys; staff members of St. Emma may have used the room for classes or maybe as bedrooms.

St Emma was owned by the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, an order of nuns founded by Katharine Drexel. Some of the nuns moved into the house and lived there for many years beginning in the 1970s when St. Emma closed. I saw a picture of a nun in her bedroom with that window in the background. I've heard rumors that the Sisters operated other "schools" on the property for some years after St. Emma's closure. 

Whispers.

Belmead HallwayHallway in mansion at Belmead

Deep Creek on the BelmeadSite of the bridge that washed away on Deep Creek Dam at Deep CreekDam on Deep Creek on Belmead on the James

St Francis de Sales NaveAbandoned nave at the school for African American girls

Belmead GranaryView from inside the granary which is probably 180+ years old.  

Philip St John Cocke had 124 enslaved people on Belmead in 1860. I don't know of any records of burials in the cemetery. Only one of these graves is marked by a large headstone. A couple of others have a small stone next to the cross. A plaque is mounted on a large boulder with the names of 45 people buried in the cemetery. Interestingly, some of the dates indicate the burials happened after the civil war. The large headstone marks the grave of Napoleon B. Drew whose life spanned 1843-1925. He would have known Philip St John Cocke, the plantation owner as well as the Drexel and Morrels, founders of the two schools. 

Another cemetery exists a quarter mile away from this one. That cemetery was for the sisters and other members of the community, probably white only. I'll have images from there in an upcoming post.

Graves of EnslavedGraveyard on Belmead for the enslaved

Much of St Emma has been destroyed. To the west of the house is a large asphalt "pad" or parade ground. That's where the cadets held their parades, formations, and punishment tours. Around that pad were the student buildings, a chapel, dormitories, gymnasium, academic halls, etc. When the school closed the buildings were seldom used and apparently not maintained. Three of the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament continued to live in the mansion after closing the school; some of their furnishings are still there. For some years after St Emma closed, the sisters conducted alternative education, I'm not sure about this, I'll have to do more research. In the early 1990s, the structures of the St Emma school were in such disrepair and potentially dangerous that the sisters had all of the structures bulldozed into a ravine on the west side of the complex. Everything except the mansion where they lived.

The image below is from the river side of the house. Belmead mansion sits high on a hill and would have been clearly visible to boaters on the James River just a quarter of a mile away. Additionally, a railroad was eventually built on the north side of the James and a small train stop was directly across from Belmead. Some St Emma students would take the train to a small stop which I believe was called "Rock Castle." A small ferry would take them south across the river to St Emma. Perhaps girls took the same route to St Francis de Sales. 

Belmead on the JamesThis is the James River side of the mansion easily viewable from the river.

This is an excerpt from Chapter 1: "The day after Christmas, 1861, Confederate General Philip St. George Cocke had dinner looking out over this lawn. After eating, he walked outside onto these steps and shot himself in the head.  The fate of the plantation he built with the help of his enslaved workforce was litigated for years and finally adjudicated in 1897.

Saint Katharine Drexel founded the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament order of nuns in 1892 and focused on providing education and educational facilities to people of color. She purchased Belmead-on-the-James and built St. Francis de Sales School for African-American girls in 1899 less than a mile east of this mansion. Katharine’s half sister Louise Morrell and Louise’s husband Edward converted the Belmead mansion into St. Emma Military Academy for Boys. St. Emma was the only military high school for Black Americans in the United States. Ever. Still.

The schools prospered and grew throughout the first half of the twentieth century. Primarily technical and service oriented in nature, when integration began in the 1960s enrollment began to fall. Together the two institutions graduated over 15,000 students until they both closed in the early 1970s.

This book includes images from the four seasons of the mansion, the grounds, the outbuildings, and the St. Francis de Sales nave. I added haikus of my impressions of the places when those places evoked in me notions of melancholy balanced with hope."

Looking OutView from the mansion tower at the roofline of the west wing.

The Lost Cause PyramidComposite image of staircase at Belmead with Hollywood Cemetery confederate memorial layered onto the ceiling of the mansion built by enslaved people

Hollywood CemeteryFamily Gravesite in Hollywood Cemetery

The land where pipestone is quarried is considered holy ground by Native Americans and the color of the stone represents the blood spilled by their people. I wrote the South Dakota State Historical Society about it. They didn't respond. Same with the Smithsonian. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Stone CarvingPipestone carving, note the buffalo on the base Pipestone - Right ViewHand carved stone Pipestone - Left ViewArtifact from my grandparents

ReadingFrom the library in the old mansion at St Emma. Old leather bound book from maybe 100 years ago is a ledger with nothing inside. The candelabra is a cheap one, lightweight, alloy. Stained glass windows. Ghosts View from the TowerCLimbing to the tower on the riverside of the house and looking out over the roof of the mansion Window on River Side of MansionLooking into the house through 170 year old window. Trees are reflected in the old glass. Pillar Capital PortraitA closeup taken in the chapel of St Francis de Sales School for Girls. The room was ornate with many carvings like this. Now crumbling. 29 & 3/10 cents per gallonOld gas pump near the ruins of the barns and granary at St Emma. The school closed in the early 70s and I remember that's about what gas cost in 1971.

The first image is the sanctuary. The colors of the room reminded me of old color film and so I treated the image with shades and tones of Kodachrome film. I think the film look also enhances the general breakdown of the building. The stained glass windows are gradually failing or being broken and bits and pieces of the ceiling and walls are falling down. Just below the school campus is the remains of an old road leading off to...who knows where, perhaps a neighbor. The Hump Back stone bridge is a little more than a quarter mile down that road which now is only a trail and a rugged trail at that. The stone bridge is over a small creek that flows into Deep Creek just before entering the James River. On the hike back I saw this old gasoline pump standing alone in the forest. Right next to the trail but no standing buildings. I tried to imagine what life was like on the campus fifty years ago.

Chapel at St Francis de SalesCrumbling Catholic sanctuary at the abandoned African American school for girls Humpback BridgeStone bridge on a long abandoned road in Belmead-on-the-James St Francis de Sales property. Rumor has the age of the bridge older than the mansion house which was built in the 1840s Pump in the ForestOld gasoline pump in the forest.

The infrastructure required to maintain this community will be significant. Probably millions of windows, hundreds of restaurants, and...well you get it. I wonder where they'll live. I found some images of folks working. The first is looking into a restaurant where I think training was happening. The reflection of the crosswalk caught my eye. A short time later, a gentleman walked up to where I'd been standing, looked inside at the folks and knocked on the window trying to get their attention. The last image is just the beginning of the window washing requirement.

Restaurant TrainingThe reflection of a crosswalk and city park in the window of a restaurant Outside Looking InThe new "Crystal City" now called National Landing. This gentleman is trying to get the attention of the people inside where a restaurant training class is apparently being held. Keeping CleanIn the Metropolitan Park area of National Landing. Construction makes things dirty and I imagine that window cleaning is a constant chore

The emotion and story in Man's portraits were really quite incredible. I don't do portraits but I do spend time studying those from Tom Wolff and Annie Leibobitz, two incredible photographers who seem to really connect with the people they are working with. Perhaps they are channeling shades of Man's storytelling techniques.

Man Ray ExhibitTwo of the galleries in the Man Ray Exhibit at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts

I think not reading newspapers is sad because they are run locally, even if they have a wider distribution, and they have a general code of conduct, not always followed, but one that requires a level of integrity and truth that isn't required by foreign trolls or internet posts (like this one). Fewer newspapers is probably better for the trees but I'm pretty sure it's not better for the people.

AutumnAutumn colors as the sun sets

I note that posting on FB increases my website traffic by 500% and that made me ask myself what was important about my website. I came to the conclusion that this is part of the creative process that I do for me, like making a print and hanging it on my wall. I don't work at selling my art so having a website isn't really critical for that...no, the important part of the website is the act of creating and "publishing" the art. Websites are really only one method of putting art out for consumption, there are other ways. I may begin to explore what other people are doing...sort of a travelogue or catalogue of art in Virginia. If I post on FB in the future, I will probably simul-post through Instagram.

These are two more images of the 522 Bridge at Maidens, VA with a walkway along the river. I imagined that the walkway might have been where the mules pulled the riverboats upriver. I think the name "The 522 Bridge" is kind of a pedestrian name for a bridge close to Maidens.

Quiet WalkPathway next to the James River at Maidens Crossing. The 522 BridgeBridge over the James River at Maidens Crossing

James RiverThe James River at Tucker Park

Lake in Pocahontas ParkLooking down the lake at the pontoon boats Lake BridgePocahontas Park bridge over the lake

Cresson Prison TudorThis building was built when the prison was a hospital for the mentally handicapped. The Halloween Season was the appropriate time for my visit. Prison ArchitectureFascinating Columns and Arches inside building. The arcs of light are from my iPhone

Prison CellThree beds. No bath. No comfort. Prison HallwayCresson Prison Women's Hospital

Cresson Prison ShowersShowers and sinks in Cresson Prison

The mansion was built by enslaved people and I'm guessing that the hand painted windows in the original side of the building were done by them. The first closeup is from the library, the second from the dining room. The dining room faces the north, the library the south hence the painting is faded on the library windows. The paintings were of plants that grew on Belmead. 

Belmead in St EmmaLibrary in the St Emma School St Emma Hand Painted WindowThe original mansion's hand painted windows probably painted by enslaved people. St Emma Hand Painted Dining Room WindowThis painting faces north and so was not faded from the sunlight

CastleCastle

Chapter 1

After a long walk in the deserted Castle gardens I stopped next to the fountain pond and sat on the stone ledge at water’s edge. I was uncomfortably tense despite the quiet of the grounds. Movement in the pond’s murky water caught my eye and I saw a bottle gently bobbing just below the surface. Looking more closely, I saw it was a large capped bottle with something inside.  I couldn’t see well enough through the dirty pond water and the brown tint of the bottle to tell what I was looking at. Without thinking, I grabbed at the bottle and was surprised that it was much deeper than I’d thought. As I reached for it, the bottle seemed to move further out and even deeper. I flailed a bit but managed to wrap my fingers around the slippery, gooey, neck and pull the bottle onto the bench where I’d been sitting.

Semi-transparent slime slowly oozed down the sides of the bottle creating a shiny, mucous-like puddle on the bench. The bottle was thick, about 18 inches tall with a capped opening. The cap was clay or mud stuffed into the bottle’s neck and wrapped over the edges of the two inch wide opening. Inside the bottle was an object, maybe a foot long and a couple of inches wide, I couldn’t really tell what it was, maybe a stick, maybe a metal bar. Gold? Iron? Sausage? Long roll of silver dollars?

What do I do with this thing, I asked myself and looked up the long stairway to the Castle. I’d seen no one, no activity anywhere. Only “Keep Out” signs. My choices, i thought were to throw the bottle back in the water, leave the bottle sitting on the edge of the pond, take the bottle home with me, or take the bottle to the  Castle.  I chose the Castle.

The long stairway to the Castle was next to the abandoned stair step fountains. I’d climbed about halfway up when I was greeted by a chained, rusty gate with a “Keep Out” sign loosely attached with rotting twine to one of the gate’s iron posts. But the gate wasn’t too high and was constructed of old iron cross beams that could provide ladder like access to the other side. I paused for less than a second and began my climb. I quickly discovered that holding a slimy large bottle and gripping a crumbling rusty gate was much more difficult than I’d imagined. When I threw my leg over the top to start down, I slipped and had to quickly grab the gate’s top crosspiece in an embrace like two lover’s saying goodbye at the train station. The bottle sailed away down the staircase and I watched in horror as it bounced and bounced and bounced and then finally shattered twenty feet or so down the stairway.

I struggled to get down and when I was firmly back on terra firma I saw that my shirt was in shreds and my chest and belly were stained with bloody scrapes and crumbs of the rusty gate. I tried to remember the last time I’d gotten a tetanus shot and decided that since I couldn’t remember, I probably needed one. Feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment, I headed for the remains of the bottle. My boots ground broken bottle bits into smaller glass bits creating an unsettling, sandpaper-like feel to my walk.

Several steps down I found the bottle’s tubular secret. I sat down and examined it more closely. It was about a foot long, maybe two inches wide and covered with something shiny and soft. I poked at it, it had no give but was cold and slick on the surface like soaking wet leather. Slowly rotating the tube I discovered a very thin, almost invisible thread loop embedded into one of the tube ends. I had to use one of my keys to pry the loop away from the soggy surface.

In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought as I pulled on the loop and the soft, gooey surface of the tube came apart as if unzipped. I was left holding a metal tube with finely detailed etching or carving and what looked like a screw cap at one end. Naturally I unscrewed the cap, looked inside and saw what looked like a tightly wrapped roll of paper. I turned the tube and the roll came out onto my hand, surprising heavy, surprisingly strong feeling. This wasn’t paper, or at least the paper I knew.

I stood up and put the roll down on the base of a nearby statue. The sun came out from the clouds and shone directly onto the tube. In clear but small block letters was, “Start at the Center.” I had a flashback to “Alice in Wonderland” and wondered what rabbit hole I’d fallen down. And then, just like Alice, I saw another small looped thread at the end of the roll, I pulled on it and the papers unrolled and flattened out in seconds. I looked closely and saw the words,

“Help me! I am a prisoner below the Castle. I will die soon unless you find me. You absolutely must read through this entire record of my adventures. Skipping to the end is what I did and now I’m trapped. My mistakes and my profits will help you. Please don’t abandon me, if you don’t start now, I will run out of time.”

To be continued...

Sunken Gardens at Mt AssisiLooking out from a structure on the gardens.

Canal WalkAll about the light on the Canal Walk in Richmond Under The BridgeIn Richmond under the bridge on the canal walk overlooking the rapids Ruins of the Richmond & Petersburg Railroad BridgeRailroad bridge ruins in Richmond, VA. Originally built in 1836 the bridge was torn down and rebuilt several times

Rumors exist about secret tunnels that may exist which would start in the basement of the mansion and end somewhere probably towards the river. Folks have speculated that they might have been the Cocke family escape tunnels. For an archeologist or anthropologist that's like buried treasure and so maybe someday someone will bring technology to bear and find out if tunnels really exist. Or is imaging them the best part of the rumor?

Basement Steps at Belmead on the JamesCrumbling stairway in the basement of the Belmead Mansion.   Elevator Button at Belmead on the JamesA long forgotten elevator button.

The original part of the house was built in the 1840s and is the right half of this image. Visitors would have arrived at the portico and been greeted by a member of the Cocke family. The other side of the house faced the James River. People were most likely to see the house from the river side since that was the main method of transportation when the mansion was built.

Belmead on the JamesThe "Big House" on the land side, the other side is the river side and would have been what was seen most by people passing by on the James River
 

Room At St EmmaThis may have been the parlor. It's a large room just off the main entrance, next to the library and the dining room

Cocke used enslaved people to build his estate. Everything on the estate was built from the raw materials on THAT land with the intellect and muscles of over 600 enslaved people. On the day after Christmas in 1861, Cocke, a Confederate general, committed suicide on the riverside steps of the mansion just a few feet behind where I took this image.  What did he think as pulled the trigger looking out over his land? What did his family and the enslaved folks think when they found his body? Was this the last view they had from the place as they left when the Civil War ended? What did the cadets of St Emma think when they looked out over the barns and granary? Did they think of sneaking down the hill on the weekend to secretly visit the girls of St Frances de Sales School? Hmmm, that I know, I heard some of the students say that was a high risk but often accomplished adventure of the St Emma students. Did the St Emma cadets think about the enslaved people who built this place?

And the first occupants? The Monacans? I'm not sure but I read they weren't interested in meeting the whites and so migrated west and north.

So many voices, so many ghosts.

View Down The HillLooking from the riverside steps of Belmead Estate towards the barns and the James River

The African American students and teachers of St Emma built the agricultural and industrial infrastructure of the school enabling self sufficiency and becoming the largest economic force of the county. Ironically, the mansion, called the Big House by the students, was originally built by enslaved people of materials taken from the plantation's own natural resources. This transition of the mansion and its environs from a place of enslaved people to one of empowered people wasn't a single "event" but rather the dedicated effort of many people over many years, especially the students. The school closed as legal segregation ended but the school's legacy lives on through the accomplishments of its talented and successful alumni. What's puzzling, but perhaps not surprising, is that no detailed  history of St Emma exists in US historic records, for instance, the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture has collected no information on the school. Nor has Virginia, nor has Powhatan County. As the buildings crumble and the graduates pass on, memories will eventually fade and only the Ghosts of St Emma will remain.
St Emma MansionView from lounge to dining room Tree Lined DriveThe students of St Emma referred to leaving the grounds as "going down the hill" The Big House at St Emma'sLong abandoned mansion basement now a shelter for ferns

Richmond Street ArtPlant growing into shape of mural on the Richmond Canal Walk City Street ArtLooking down the walkway with street art, murals, cool shadows, and walls on the Canal Walk in Richmond, VA  

Please let me know whether you like this image in Black and White or color. Thanks for looking.

Seed PodBlack & White Image of Seed Pod found on walk Seed PodColor Image of Seed Pod found on walk

Everything has a story even if the story is a short one, if I move too fast I might miss that story. I can't seen to help it though, a clock is ticking in my head that I need to hurry up. I try to pause often, I will try harder. I was walking on the east part of the canal walk in Richmond not too far from the train station. It's a diverse and dynamic and often invisible population in that part of town. I saw these newish looking dress shoes sitting on this stone bench in an otherwise deserted section of the canal walk. And I wondered how.

ShoesShoes on a bench in a deserted area under the bridges on the canal walk in Richmond, VA

US Botanical GardenThe beauty and calm of the garden highlighted by glowing petals Posing BeeIn the Garden trying to get the bee to pose

The HeadhouseTables set up in the old Headhouse of the Richmond Main Street Station Headhouse in Main Street Station in RichmondClose up of tables set up in the Headhouse area of the Richmond Main Street Station The Shed in the Richmond Train StationEvent space called the "Shed" in what used to be tracks in the Main Street Station in Richmond

Ruined DockDock in ruins belonging to the Alexandria Boat Club

Bicyclist on DocksBalancing on a bike on the Alexandria Waterfront Riverwalk  

OrchidIn the Conservatory at Lewis Ginter Garden

Shoe OrchidIn the Conservatory at Lewis Ginter Garden

OrchidsIn the Conservatory at Lewis Ginter Garden

After the waterIn the Conservatory at Lewis Ginter Garden`

This image is from the Richmond Holocaust museum, an oven from a concentration camp. Someone placed a single red rose in a "In Memoriam" vase. I ache for the 6 million souls lost in that Holocaust. I am nervous about the nationalism, racism, and hate that is capturing our nation and the world because of fear and the ever increasing need for power by the nationalists. Shameful. Hurtful. Deadly. 

Concentration Camp OvenConcentration camp oven shown in The Holocaust Museum in Richmond.

Or maybe the theme of the book (and life) is the "silver bullet,"  if I can just get through that door then everything will change for the better. Graduation. Employment. Mortgage. A move. Marriage. Children. Sickness. Health. Retirement. Safety. But then I remember, life isn't really about getting some particular place, life is about the steps you take to get there and the vision to see where you are as you're going. Another Rabbit Hole and I still haven't seen Alice.

I remember twenty years ago today. The terror and tragedy. We came together as a nation, not for long, but for a while. We do that, we come together, and then we forget. Events and economy overtake our memories...some people actually call the Holocaust fake news, the social and economic and life impact of Vietnam is only remembered by people my age, we were so used to the war in Afghanistan that we barely noticed it in the news. And more. No Shangri-La. 

Portal to Shangri-La?Entryway to the Japanese Gardens at Maymont Estate  

Edgar or PlutoOne of the black cats on the grounds of the Edgar Allan Poe Museum in Richmond

Morning ReflectionsMorning reflections on Richmond's Holocaust Museum

Garden walk, a slide show.

With virtually no planning two friends from Platte, SD, and I decided to do a mad dash from South Dakota to Lake Louise in Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada. After all, we were on summer break and had 7 days with no scheduled activities. Like the crazy 20 year olds we were, we packed our huge, heavy canvas tent, cooler, and other supplies for a week into my 1965 Mustang. We spent the first night in the Black Hills of SD, close to what was the Dinosaur Park. From there we drove to Yellowstone National Park where we camped in a place now closed to tent camping because of bears. And we did see a grizzly bear in the campground when we were there. The rangers brought a "bear trap" to the campground and put it about 100 yards from our tent. The trap was a very large steel culvert with a piece of meat on one end. The bear comes in one end of the culvert, pulls on the meat, and the door slams shut. They caught him! But honestly, we did not get much sleep that night.

From Yellowstone we drove to Glacier Park. It wasn't a pleasant drive, my Mustang did not like the exceedingly steep roads in the summer heat and my water temperature got too high. We ended up driving with the radiator cap off. I'm sure that's not a good thing. We apparently blew the thermostat, who knew? the downhill side was just as bad because I worried about my brakes overheating. I don't remember where we camped that night, probably too stressed out.

My father was born in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, and grew up in nearby Medicine Hat. We next stopped in those two places and looked at what had been his childhood homes. Not surprising, none of us 20-year-olds were overly impressed.

We next drove to Lake Louise in Banff. Except there was no place to camp and we couldn't get to the fancy hotel (not that we could afford to stay there). I don't remember why, perhaps because of the "No Camping Ahead" signs. We did park somewhere and hiked up a mountain so that we could see the lake as well as the lodge we'd heard so much about. Unbelievable blue water. But we needed a place to camp and ended up on Mt Eisenhower. The Canadians changed the name in 1979 back to Castle Mountain because why would you name a Canadian Mountain after an American president. I mean, really. Quick story about that mountain, we camped high, at the treeline and not "finished," that is no facilities. The next morning for some crazy reason, I decided I needed to wash my hair. Without thinking I stuck my head in the small creek next to our campsite. Wow. The water was so cold that I felt like my head was hit by a hammer.

On July 20, 1969, the last night of our journey, we were sleeping next to a cornfield someplace in Saskatchewan, Canada. The night sky was clear, the moon was out but i think it was a quarter moon. We were listening to my tiny little radio about Tranquility Base and man walking on the moon. Pretty spectacular, we thought. But so was our trip, we noted.

Circling back to Tranquility. The Japanese Gardens at Maymont are a place where tranquility reigns. The image is looking over the Moon Bridge to the waterfall.

Postscript. Last year, I reached out to my travelling companions. They still live in Platte, SD, and are doing well. 

The Moon BridgeThe Moon Bridge in Maymont Estate in the Japanese Gardens   

Wave GoodbyeBlossoms final hours after hard rain storm.

Yesterday I went to Maymont in Richmond. I've only seen a small bit of the place and look forward to going back. My walkabout included only the Italian and Japanese Gardens. I tried to imagine the family that had lived there a hundred years ago. And then I tried to imagine the people that designed and built the gardens in the 1890s. What do you suppose they were trying to provide? Sanctuary? Post-war peace? Transformation to another land? People build things and those things remain as their legacy, if they'd written down how they FELT about doing what they were doing, we'd better understand why they did what they did. On the other hand, then their ghosts wouldn't talk with me on my walkabouts.

GhostsJapanese Gardens at Maymont Estate

Roman Exhibit at VMFARoman artifacts in the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts including mosaic floors

Libby prison was evidently a horror house of sick and wounded Union soldiers. There was a sign describing the conditions of the place and they were awful. Lest we think the Union was nice to their prisoners, I was reminded of Elmira Prison in New York, another horror house where confederate prisoners were held. An ancestor of mine, on the Jones Family side, was the last commander of Elmira prison.  Libby Prison MemorialFlood wall in downtown Richmond erected as a memorial to a confederate prison

Curling ProfilePondside in the Japanese Garden at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens Japanese GardensIn Lewis Ginter Botanical Center

Wedding BouquetWedding Bouquet from Maggie, NC

Apparently the land was originally occupied by the Cherokee until they were driven out in the early 19th century when white settlers arrived. On a side road I discovered an inn that had this old buckboard wagon sitting at the entrance to the drive. I wondered how old the wagon was and what "extras" the wagon might have had...brakes (the wood block in front of the right rear wheel), suspension (spring system), a bracket for a wagon cover (between the rear wheel and the body). And I wondered, were we as proud of our wagons 150 years ago as we are of our cars today? Hmmmm, good question.

The second image is from the stream that split the wedding venue in half. Brook, brown, and rainbow trout are in there and I saw folks fishing from the shore as well as with waders. Fly gear and spinners. But I didn't see anything on the hook. 

Buckboard WagonWagon in Maggie Valley, NC

Trout StreamStream in Maggie Valley, NC

The second photo is one of the pano images from the far left, further than the final image.

Mountain MeadowWide scenic view of a mountain meadow in southern Pennsylvania/   Looking to the LightMountain Meadow looking toward the setting sun

Solitude at SunsetA lone house on a mountain prairie in West Virginia or Pennsylvania.

I also did a walkabout in the Virginia Museum of History & Culture. Fascinating place with lots of stuff. I will have to go back because I only had a short time to walkabout. They are also constructing new parts of the museum and I look forward to seeing the changes.

Between those two places is a white blockhouse building surrounded by orange tape, orange cones, and "No Trespassing" signs. Turns out the building is the headquarters for an organization that venerates "The Lost Cause," the KKK, and believes that most enslaved people were happy. Sad. Really sad. Here comes the hate mail.

VMFA PondWater feature around main VMFA building WaterfallWater feature next to the stairs on the VMFA campus

Ginter GardensGreenhouse at the Lewis Ginter Gardens taken from just above the Rose Garden Conservatory at Ginter GardensSteps leading from the gardens to the Conservatory Plaza

As much as I love Southern Cal that love is not for the surfing or sailing or swimming. No...I am not a fan of walking in the sand and certainly not of chumming for ocean sea creatures with my body. But I am a huge fan of the sight, sound, and smell of the ocean and love to sit or walk along the high bluffs above the beaches. When the ocean crashes onto the beach my senses are filled with the power and immensity of that joining. This image of the San Clemente Pier was taken from Casa Romantica Cultural Center & Gardens sitting on a cliff high above the beach. Perfect.

I hope Rene has a great day. 

San Clemente PierSan Clemente Pier and CIty Beach taken from Casa Romantica

I've told myself that creativity is a fluid process, a tidal river that isn't routine or regular. I've answered myself by describing some endpoints or conclusions about my creativity...no, endpoints is the wrong word. I've discovered describable boundaries in my creativity. I'll circle back to them in a paragraph or two.

Currently, my craft is most influenced by David duChemin, George Nobechi, Michael Kenna, and Cole Thompson. Their work and their creative energies are the desert rain drops on my suppressed story. Listening to their talks and studying their works (sorry, Cole) reconnect my creative spirit with my reluctant doing self.

I make things selfishly, to lift up my own joy and happiness. The story or the poem or the image or the print is not what rings my bell but rather the bell ringing happens during the process of the making. Consequently, I'm anxious about trapping myself in a creative "La Brea Tar Pit" or echo chamber where I might be captured into doing the same things over and over and over again. By emphasizing the process instead of the end I may not change my boundaries, but I have made them softer, more accessible, and less restrictive.   

After all of that, "Where am I now?" Well, for today, anyway? First, selling stuff has never been important but has been a bit of a nagging presence with the thought that to be successful I should sell stuff. I'm over that. I no longer need to maintain a FB store or stress about hate mail I receive or insensitive nationalistic, racist comments sent to me in response to an image or comment I post. I will keep my personal FB page and post images and stories. I will continue to enter gallery juried exhibitions. I appreciate when others enjoy my work and exhibitions provide another channel for that in addition to this seldom viewed website. But, I am a terrible procrastinator. Hmmmm, that's not right...I'm a GREAT procrastinator! I love to put things off. Gallery exhibition deadlines are very helpful to keep me on track and paying attention.

So what's changed? Not much really. Suspending my business FB account on Aug 1 is the only real thing. I have a slightly better handle on the creative me. And I am pretty sure I will continue having creative conversations with myself. I'm not a great listener, but I'm learning.

Everyone Knows Your NameWinter Day At The Majestic in Old Town Alexandria

The ninety mile drive home took me four hours. Imagine.

US Capitol BuildingThe building after the fences were taken down.

DoorsStairway to bell tower St Emma Military Academy

Chapel in St Francis de Sales SchoolThe sun shining through a window in the opposite wall onto the altar rail

O.F. 18 Pr
V
F.S.
G.F.
4416

That's engraved on the shell casing which is about 6" high, perhaps a 40mm shell. It's mounted on a small stand and on the brass plate that's on the small stand it says:

THE SHRAPNEL STAND
Colonial Fixtures, LTD
Registered 1915

The image below is a detail of the 2" clock that is mounted on the round. If anyone has a clue about any of the engravings, I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know! Thanks!!!

Trench ArtA two inch clock mounted on an artillery shell from World War I. This type of thing was called Trench Art.

Black Lives MatterLee Statue in Richmond, VA, covered with BLM graffiti.

Richmond Skyline and James RiverTaken from the edge of Hollywood Cemetery looking over the river at RVA

Mellon FountainNational Gallery of Art Mellon Fountain

Dying BlossomDead flower waiting for a breeze

Asian GardenAt Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden Looking into FlaglerAt Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden looking into the Flagler section Lewis Ginter ConservatoryThe conservatory taken from Luck Garden The Lotus BridgeThe Lotus Bridge overlooking part of Sydnor Lake in Lewis Ginter Garden

Statue of PanChatham Manor in Fredericksburg with Pan in the Garden  

Flowering treeNo idea what this is but the blossoms are high up in the tree. Byron Park ground flowerRed flowers

Battery Park and the Statue of LibertyLooking out over the river towards the Statue of Liberty

Pergola at Maymont EstatePergola at Maymont looking from the dome towards the Mansion

Gentle BridgeJapanese Garden at Maymont in Richmond, VA BridgeWalking bridge in the Japanese Garden at Maymont

Japanese Gardens Photographic Painting of Japanese Garden at Maymont Estate in Richmond, VA Waterfall StaircaseWaterfall staircase from Japanese to Italian Garden Maymont Italian GardenPortico at Maymont Estate

Office at St Francis de Sales School for Girls Office in a small outbuilding of the school, shared with a classroom in the front section of the building.

Potomac RiverSubsiding storm clouds over the Potomace as the sun begins to set

Rainy DayLeaf holding blossom petal and rain water in Green Spring Gardens

Vietnam Veterans MemorialThe Wall during COVID lockdown. No one was there and this unusual angle was available

Wreckage of DockOld dock in Old Town Alexandria, closed and crumbling Old Town DocksCollapsing docks in Old Town Alexandria. Potomac River from Old TownLooking across Potomac from Old Town Alexandria  

Back of chapelBack of the chapel at St Frances de Sales school looking up at loft and windows Front of ChapelLooking from back to front of the chapel at St Frances de Sales school. This is the left side of the chapel with part of the altar showing on the right side of the image Altar railAt the altar rail in the chapel at St Frances de Sales school for girls Back of ChapelAt the back of the chapel is a stairway to the loft lit by stained glass windows

Green Spring Gardens FlowerGreen Spring Gardens Flower, perhaps a daffodil...I'm not sure HIdden!!This structure was fascinating, the bud (or whatever it's called) was hidden (perhaps protected) by all of the leaves surrounding the center. SymmetryThis bud was almost 2 feet above the circular leaf pattern at its base.

The mansion house on the Military Academy side was the former plantation house of a confederate general, and the 2200+ acres were known as Belmead Plantation or Belmead-on-the-James. The land is rolling forest and field and river...truly beautiful, Virginia (inland VA) at its best. The first image is the front entrance to the mansion. The second image is looking from the mansion down the hill towards the entry gates which are quite a ways away.  I will go back, thanks to John and Fred for putting this together!

Tree Line at Saint EmmaLooking across the James River Valley from the Mansion
St Emma Military AcademyFront entrance at the academy. Former southern plantation

Terry UnderstockCoolest of the Cool.

My brother-in-law Terry unexpectedly passed away this last weekend. He was a fighter with a gentle inner strength way above the norm. I am saddened beyond description and know his immediate family is too. I cannot be with them when they celebrate his life tomorrow but wanted to tell my friends of his passing.

I most remember his caring and concern for others. For Terry, helping people personally and professionally was second nature. He was a very private person shunning notice of his own personal and professional accomplishments even while he proudly lauded the achievements of his friends, family, and colleagues. He gave so much of himself to all of them. His life certainly was not one of calm waters and easy navigation. Rather, hard work, physical challenges, injuries, changes in national and local economics, business crises, and more all made his life’s journey seem tempestuous and challenging to the observer, but to Terry, all in a day’s life…the way things should be done.

If I were sailing at sea in a terrible storm, I’d imagine a sweet spot in the position of the boat, the tension of the sails, and the angle of the rudder…the manner and method of maintaining course and minimizing the tempest of the storm. Terry was that sweet spot in life’s tempestuous journey.

"And where did you move?" you might ask. That's a little difficult to describe...it's an area consisting of two small towns, Manakin and Sabot, hence we live in "Manakin Sabot." Manakin is from the native Monacan and Sabot is a French word for shoe or armament because French Huguenots settled here 300 years ago in a village they called Sabot. Sounds like we are out in the country but we're really on the edge or transition area between city and country. We're only 15 miles northwest of Richmond and 3 miles west of Short Pump. Our area has what I'd call a creek running through it, it's called a "branch" and to preserve the branch they will put in huge pipes while developing the land. These are some of the pipes, about 10 feet in diameter.

Creek to BePIpes that will save the flow of Reader's Branch in Goochland

Park Bench on the PotomacQuite a lot of this sidewalk on the Potomac is collapsing and is closed. I hope they find the dollars for repairs 14th Street BridgesThe tree seems to point to the river, the many bridges that make up the 14th St bridge complex The 14th Street BridgesAll of the bridges from below Metro Train on 14th St BridgeMetro train crossing the bridge into Virginia. Not that many riders these days

Rusting BridgeThe rust coats all parts of this incredible structure Very cool light reflecting on one of the 14th Street Bridges14th Street Bridge looking into Virginia in the mid-day morning light.
 

I think what I could see from the road was just the youth facility, the women's facility, and the low risk men's facility. What you couldn't see was the high risk risk and the maximum security facilities. Fairfax County was kind enough to give the two of us a tour of the place in December 2020. We went through the cell blocks which were being converted into apartments. Then we went into the walled maximum security facility. This is where the prisoners considered the most dangerous were housed, in single cells with little comfort and little freedom.  Now, well now the maximum security is becoming a shopping area with groceries, restaurants, and shops. Converted cells and homes on the grounds are upscale. Change.

The images in the slideshow are (1) the abandoned Warden's House; (2) looking down the wall from a guard tower, the maximum security yard is on the left; (3) cell block door control panel where the doors could be remotely locked and unlocked; (4) Looking down the second story of the cell block, there was no air conditioning, the fans on the wall were the only "cooling;" (5) Entryway into the cell block from the guards' secure area. Prisoner art, a tiger, was painted on the wall just prior to the entryway; (6) the area just outside the cell block where the guards could "relax" if such a thing was possible in this place.

Although they've moved and the park bench is probably long gone, I carry the memories of that place and remember the light and the mentoring. I think, in fact, that I'm always looking for that same line of shadows, the same golden tones, and, the same type of mood. The trip was fun, lots of laughs, great food, and wonderful image finding. Ah...memories.

Park Bench just before sunsetCarmel, Indiana, in the fall.  

This image is from Leesylvania Park which is on the Potomac River just a few miles south of here. The park is large with a fishing pier, loads of picnic tables, and lots of shorelines. And almost no one is there. A couple of fishermen. A couple of walkers. Crickets. But some very cool nature.

Lonely ShoreShoreline on the Potomac River at Leesylvania Park

I put this and two other new pieces in the poetry section of this site.

FallingFalling Whales

King Street Alexandria, VALooking to the west from near the water on King Street

I saw these two waiters getting ready for the dinner crowd. I was reminded of a sidewalk cafe in Belgium and so changed the textures to match my distant memories. The second image is a couple dining in one of the plastic chow halls on King Street. Most of the restaurants in the lower block of King Street have tents...on the street, the block is now a walking street. I wonder how long that will last.  

Landini Brothers RestaurantLandini Brothers in Old Town Alexandria, outside dining Dining in Old Town AlexandriaTwo diners in a tent outside the restaurant on King Street

This image is from last Thursdays walkabout in Alexandria. I don't have a title but "Alone" seems proper.

AloneOn a corner in Old Town Alexandria

I was looking for color combinations that stood out in the night and provided sort of a "film noir" feeling. Over the next few days, I'll post a few of them. I was shooting at a high ISO, 5000, and so they might be a bit grainy. I enjoyed the walk. 

Night Time BreakroomBack entrance in Old Town Dock to nowhereBroken dock, "Caution"

Empty RestaurantIt was early, maybe before the dinner crowd. Or maybe the pandemic norm.  

Winter at the LakeBurke Lake WInter Scene

This image is from the hilltop lookout walk looking over the smaller pond. Peaceful, not quite melancholy, but almost lonely.

Meadowlark ParkOverlook at Meadowlark Park. Walking path and walking bridge.

Artist at the LakePainting next to Meadowlark Lake. Plein Air painting! Overlook at Meadowlark LakeVintage View of Meadowlark Lake Waiting at the BridgeWaiting at the Bridge in Meadowlark Park Walking Bridge at MeadowlarkWalking Bridge at Meadowlark

Today, the local Post Office honored Billy with a memorial parade along the street of Billy's route. Many of us turned out to honor his service and his memory.

Billy Dew, Postal Carrier Memorial ParadeParade of Postal Vehicles honoring fallen carrier who died from COVID-19. Flags placed along mail route honoring Billy DewFlags placed along mail route honoring Billy Dew who died from COVID

PeaceBy the Lake  

"I think I can say, and say with pride, that we have some legislatures that bring higher prices than any in the world."
Mark Twain, 1873, Id., p.159

I did not have much time today but wanted to spend a bit of that time trying long exposures with a neutral density filter. I headed for Lake Accotink and stopped at the dam. This is a 30 second exposure converted to B&W. I learned that I have a lot to learn with this set of filters and equipment. This is a 10 stop change in the light that comes into the sensor and I was only successful 1 out of 8 images. Time to hit the books (or YouTube). 

Lake AccotinkLong exposure of water flowing over Lake Accotink Dam

"Talent is useless without training."
Mark Twain, 1879, Id., p.280

Yesterday I had a random thought: before the days get too long and sunset is a bit inconvenient, why not head out to the lake just before the sun was going to set and see if there are images to be found. And off I head to Burke Lake, my "go-to" photo goldmine. Surprise, surprise, I was not alone in my desire for a sunset at the lake, in fact, parking was a problem! But, I had a great walk, everyone was masked except some of the runners/bikers and everyone was paying attention to social distancing. The weather was very un-January like, 45 degrees with clear skies. The disc golf course was jammed, people waiting on all of the tees; the hiking paths were very busy with lots of families and couples hiking briskly through the forest, and there were even people out on the water in canoes and kayaks. I found this image at my favorite photo-perch but had to wait a while for the bench to be unoccupied. I didn't wait for the sun to go down, I wanted to beat the closing traffic rush.

Nature's Gallery SeatPark bench at Burke Lake overlooking the Marina

I have a new project in the "Projects" section of the site, I'm making a book and the first galley of pages is ready. Some of the poems and images were previously published but not in this arrangement. As I make changes, including more pages, I will also have a blog post noting the change. I would very much appreciate comments and critiques. I know there are only a couple of you out there reading the blog (smile) but I value your input. Or you can email me!

This image is of the Duke Ellington Bridge in Washington, DC, taken from next to Rock Creek.

Duke Ellington BridgeView from Rock Creek Park of the Duke Ellington Bridge

"Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions.
Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual...
New Year's is a harmless annual institution,
of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat
for promiscuous drunks, and friend calls, and humbug resolutions..."
Mark Twain, Id., p194

This year has ended. Many things can and will be written about 2020 and many of the writings will seem grander than they really should be. We all had to adjust.  We've had many, many tragic losses and we must somehow remember them and what those people would have contributed to this world. We are in the middle of the Twelve Days of Christmas so it's not too late to be kind to someone! Later this month I will sit in judgement of the images I've made this year and post them. I think I will narrow the set down to twelve...one for each month, perhaps a calendar is coming!

Twelve Days of ChristmasChristmas isn't over, we still have 7 days left!

"This (Hawaiian) Legislature is like all other legislatures. A woodenhead gets up and proposes an
utterly absurd something or other, and he and half a dozen other woodenheads discuss it
with windy vehemence for an hour, the remainder of the house sitting in silent patience the while,
and then a sensible man---a man of weight---a big gun---gets up and shows the
foolishness of the matter in five sentences; a vote is taken and the thing is tabled."
Mark Twain, 1866, Id., p158

The days are counting down to the end of this awful, scary year. Of course the turn of the calendar page is only an artifice of things and doesn't actually separate anything that could be construed as helpful. Well. Perhaps a new tax year? Perhaps a new medical insurance year? Hmmm, well maybe there is something to this New Year thing. I often think about time, I'm not the only one since people have been keeping track of time for millenia, I mean think of Stone Henge, Tulum, and more.

A couple of years ago I did a walkabout with friends at the Bromo Seltzer Tower in Baltimore. The last vestige of a financial and "medical" empire from a century ago. The tower was intended to be a miniature Big Bend and is consequently quite a site. We had the chance to crawl around inside the tower at the clock level. The highly polished brass movements reminded me of the inside of old pocket watches...very elaborate and precise looking.

Wheels of TimeClock movement inside the Bromo Seltzer Tower in Baltimore, MD

"Familiarity breeds contempt & children."
Mark, Twain, Id., p95

I went on a short walkabout with a friend today in Holmes Run Park in Alexandria. This park is several miles long running west to east through the city ending in the Potomac. The walk was short because the wind was a tad brisk and biting. I wasn't in a creative mood and so few images were found. In fact, I think that the best part of the walkabout was the walking part. For Christmas I received a pair of hiking poles and I gave them a test run! I loved that I could also poke about in the leaves that cover the ground and find the holes that I used to inevitably fall into. The sun was high and harsh and so black and white seemed an appropriate approach. This small pond had some really bright grass framing the reflections on the water. A couple of ducks were feeding next to a weed patch in the middle of the pond. I didn't want this to be another bird watching session!

Winter PondWinter pond in Holmes Run Park in Alexandria, VA

"Concerning the difference between man & the jackass.
Some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass."  Mark Twain, 1899
The Quotable Mark Twain, R.K. Rasmussen

I'm opting out of social media for a bit. I will work harder on my creative skills including looking at images that didn't seem special when they found me. This one, for instance, was a beautiful flower I found in a pond at high noon at Hillwood. The backdrop of the flower was the deeply shadowed stone bank or wall of the pond. I'm a fan of the stark contrasts and textures and complimenting colors. 

I'm also a fan of Mark Twain/Samuel Clemens. I find his skills delightful and inspiring. I have read and re-read many of his works. I will provide a quote by him in many of my posts. As a source, I'm using Rasmussen's "The Quotable Mark Twain." The quotes won't necessarily match the image or the story of the post but they will always make me smile and I hope they do you, too.

I am going to post this post (hah! see) on FB but then will no longer do that after today. If you haven't already, please click on the "Subscribe RSS" button on this page. If you aren't on my mailing list, you can sign up by going here. I really do appreciate those of you who follow me. You can always write or comment!! 

"Out of the Darkness"Lotus growing in pond at Hillwood during the summer of 2019

Prison DoorDoor into the gymnasium at Lorton Prison

Walking SunriseWalking toward the rising sun on the dam at Huntsman Lake

The Mt Zion side of the cemetery has some "piles of headstones." I can only speculate how they got there. I think the most likely scenario is past attempts to gather artifacts that had perhaps been displaced, perhaps as far away as the Rock Creek Parkway.  These piles of stones are only on the Mt Zion side, none on the Female Union Band side. The one image of the Female Union Band gravesite with the "Father-Mother" stone, has the Oak Hill Cemetery in the background. Oak Hill was started after Mt Zion and was Whites only. When Oak Hill opened many Whites exhumed their family members from Mt Zion and reinterred them at Oak Hill also taking away the perpetual funding. The difference between these Black and White cemeteries is stark and continues.  

Stone GatheringHeadstones arranged in Mt Zion cemetery Underground Railroad stop! This vault was used for "pre-burial" storage, is hidden over the hill from the street and was frequently used by runaway enslaved people on their flight to freedom in the north. Stone YardHeadstones gathered on the Mt Zion hilltop. Headstones in the Female Union Band CemeteryHeadstones in the Female Union Band Cemetery on the edge of a slope overlooking the manicured grounds of Oak Hill Cemetery.

The crow was at the end of another dock. He and I had quite a conversation for several minutes as I inched ever closer. I had a wide angle lens on so couldn't really get a closeup. He was very vocal about me getting closer and eventually decided enough was enough and I was lucky to be ready for that moment.

The sparrow, well, the little thing was obviously cold and didn't mind me getting close. In fact, this is the wide angle lens, i was about two feet away from it when I snapped the shutter. 

I am not a birder. I am not a birder. I am not a birder.
 

Eagle in Old TownYoung bald eagle sitting on a piling in Old Town Alexandria Impatient CrowI had talked with this crow for several minutes before he thought I'd gotten too close SparrowPerhaps an English Sparrow

National Museum of the American IndianSculpture at the National Museum of the American Indian

Burke Lake DockStill waters at Burke Lake on a cold November day

Covered BridgeCovered Bridge near Frederick, MD that provided the theme for the fictional short story

Just One More Bridge

Lee Halvorsen

Just one more bridge. That’s all, I told myself. Just one more bridge. I smiled as my mind filled with bridge clichés and Hallmark Coming Home movies and Prodigal Son stories but none of them is what I’m feeling now. My smile quickly faded. I’ve been sitting on this rock in the ditch looking at that bridge for an hour. Looking at it, hoping for a sign or any indication of comfort or familiarity. I mean, for crying out loud, the bridge should know me! For 18 years I’d been carried over, walked on, or driven over that rickety pile of boards and nails. I hid underneath the damn thing to escape the rain or the enraged football rivals from just over the county line. I remember thundering tires, creaking beams, swirling dust, and dripping mud. But all mine! This was my bridge. The gateway to my childhood home.

Becky and I would sneak out of high school every chance we got and then head for my bridge. Once away from the school we walked slowly, held hands, and picked daisies. When we were riverside, we made a wish,  threw the blossoms into the water, and watched them swirl away. We imagined doing that same thing with our lives, swirling away and finding a new place together. One day we did swirl away. Just not together.

River under the bridgeUnder the bridge selected to accompany the fictional short story Dad would take me fishing under the bridge. He liked the bridge’s shade and told me the fish liked shade too. I doubted they did; I think in the ten years we fished under the bridge, we caught only five fish! I’d get quite frustrated about the lack of action and want to head somewhere else. He’d always say, “No, let’s give it a little more time,” and then he’d start to talk with me again. Even on the hottest summer day, it was always comfortable under my bridge. I asked him once why we didn’t fish at sunrise or sunset when it was cooler and a better hour to catch fish. He answered with a smile, “We aren’t here for the fish.”

My mom taught me to drive in a 1957 Rambler station wagon with a three speed stick on the column, a very, very manual transmission. I didn’t know then and I don’t know now, how the magic of car mechanics happens  but I do know this Rambler did not have power steering. I was only 14 and barely able to reach the pedals. Turning the beast while changing gears and accelerating or decelerating was a challenge. Of course, right over on the home side of the bridge the road curved sharply, way sharply;  you had to slow, change gears, turn, straighten, accelerate, change gears, turn, slow, accelerate, and then NOT hit the bridge! I’m willing to bet the marks from my first three Rambler bridge crossings are still visible.

Even the Hallmark Channel admits you can’t go home again. I haven’t been back here in decades. I left in a huff...angry, hateful words stinging and sticking between us. I hadn’t seen him since that night’s fierce battle and I’m now realizing I never will. I just missed him, only one day late. Time to head over the bridge. Well, maybe there’s a little time for fishing.

But, there is another story from 102 years ago about fighting for those rights on the battlefield. The National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA) independently funded and sent 78 American women doctors and nurses to France. With assistance from other Suffragists, they built medical installations, hospitals, etc., and provided critical medical care on and very near the battlefields. Black women were sadly shut out of NAWSA but organized themselves under Howard University graduate Dr. Mary L. Brown and provided similar support through the Red Cross. Not surprisingly, more than 100 American women during WWI were decorated by foreign governments...but none by the United States.

This image, "Yesterday's Vision" is from the Rawlings Conservatory in Baltimore, MD, and was taken in March 2018. The conservatory was originally opened in 1888 and was renovated in 2002-4.

"Yesterday's Vision"Rawlings Conservatory entryway in Baltimore, Maryland

For instance, just over a hundred years ago, women suffragists silently marched six days a week outside of the White House protesting that women did not have the right to vote. These women were called the "Silent Sentinels" and were often arrested on trumped up or trivial charges like "obstructing traffic." They were given a choice, pay a fine or go to Lorton Workhouse Prison for Women.

One of these women, Alice Paul, was sentenced to seven months for obstructing traffic, was treated roughly and fed only bread and water. To protest her treatment she went on a hunger strike. In response, prison officials tied her to a chair, held her down, had a large woman physically straddle her, and then had two other women force a rubber hose into her nose and down to her stomach from which she was force fed. Publicity of this atrocity didn't stop or slow the same or similar treatment to other women. On November 14,1917, called the "Night of Terror," the Lorton Prison superintendent ordered many of the Silent Sentinels to be severely beaten. All were hurt, some terribly, some to unconsciousness. This wasn't fake news, this was an American institution beating political prisoners who had no voice in the political system. News of the atrocity did leak out and two weeks later the women were released from prison. Three years later, the Nineteenth Amendment was passed. (From the Smithsonian, "Folk Life," https://tinyurl.com/y2fx5kas)

The Women's prison is mostly gone. Across the street from where the Women's facility was located, the Lorton Workhouse Art Center stands with a museum dedicated to the Prison's history including the Silent Sentinels. These images are from the Workhouse area.

Lorton Workhouse Prison Guard Tower overlooking the old baseball field and scoreboard from the Lorton Workhouse Old Power Plant at Lorton WorkhouseOld Power Plant at Lorton Workhouse Barred WindowsWindow in the Gym at the old Lorton Workhouse Prison Lorton WorkhouseFlowers behind the ruins of the dugout at the baseball field with the guard tower in the distance.

I didn't go through all six of the barracks, only two of them and the kitchen or central facility (which now faces Silverbrook Rd). There was no electricity and the light was minimal.

The first image was on the ground floor of one of the barracks. In a hallway prior to the cellblock, I went into a room that was about 16x16' with no windows; the only light came through the doorway from a window down the hall, quite a few feet away.  I was startled by the colorful art which literally leapt out at me despite the darkness; Prisoner art I was told.  

Before you enter a cell block there is an area, I don't know what it's called, it's like a foyer or waiting area. Some of them had metal tables, some exercise equipment, some were just empty rooms leading to the cells. This one had a tiger painted right next to the door. Prisoner art or guard art...who knows.

The third image was taken in one of the entryways to the kitchen. Of course all sorts of things go through my mind about how it was made and what the materials might have been. There is an outside chance it could have been done by intruders after the prison closed but the County has had an armed guard at the facility to keep prowlers out so I don't think so. I think that the symbolism and desperateness of the symbol speak volumes for where it is located.

Prisoner Art Lorton, VATaken from the interior of a small room at Lorton. Not a cell, maybe an admin room.

Prisoner Art, The Tiger, at Lorton Entryway to the cellblock at Lorton. Prisoner art on the wall in the waiting room

Prisoner Art at LortonPrisoner Art from the kitchen at Lorton Prison  

Lorton Prison Guard TowerLorton Prison Guard Tower now overlooking old prisoner cell blocks that have been converted to condos

Lindsay HouseWIlliam Lindsay built this house around 1782. It's been added onto extensively over the centuries and is now boarded up and off limits. Lindsay HouseView of the back porch of the Lindsay House. Sitting in ruins, probably not long for this world.

Yesterday a friend and I went to Belle Haven Marina (separate cars BTW). It's an interesting place, fully operational although not terribly busy. It's a school and perhaps a summer camp like operation for kids. There are quite a few boats at dock, all sizes, all types, all conditions. There is an inland waterway kind of thing that has older boats tied up, boats that don't look like they've seen the open water in a long time. Lots of kayaks, boards, etc. Most of the people visiting were masked, more than half I'd guess. 

After the marina we walked for a short bit on the trail in Dyke's Marsh. The image of sailboats taken through the trees is from that trail. That was a peaceful walk. There were portions of the trail that were directly next to the river and the shore was a sandy beach. We also saw an eagle, sitting alone on the branch of a dead tree with nothing else around it. Perfectly posed!! But I only had my short lens and so no closeup eagle shots. Oh well, the eagle has been done before, but I enjoyed the sight! Only about half the people walking on the trail had masks. Sigh.

Belle Haven MarinaBelle Haven Marina, boats at anchor taken from Dyke's Marsh trail

Flat TopFlat Top boat tied up in Belle Haven Marina Old BoatsKayaks and an old sailboat in the Belle Haven Marina

Pileated WoodpeckerOn the feeder in the front yard tolerating me quite well.

Spaceship "Arlington"This is a double exposure, flipped vertically of some glass buildings in Arlington. ArlingtonBallston Commons in Arlington, Double Exposure, Flipped Vertically Suspended EntrywayBallston Commons in Arlington, Double Exposure, Flipped Vertically  

Oh. BTW, I'm not sure I could ride a bike. I guess I better try!

This is a long exposure image taken in DC during the winter.

Real?Long exposure taken in Washington, DC, in the winter

Castles in the CloudsCastles in the Clouds from Burke Lake Park

When I was younger I spent quite a bit of time looking at clouds (before my pilot days!). Joni Mitchell's song was very appropriate to me then...probably even now. I desperately wanted to be a writer when I was a teen and I'd write stuff, most of which is long gone both in memory and in fact. But this week I was going through old boxes to "downsize" and found an unopened letter forwarded by my parents to me in my room at 201 Hansen Hall at South Dakota State University. The "letter" was actually a typewritten poem by me that I had submitted to some contest or jury or something in the spring of 1967. There was a nice note from Adeline M Jenney at the bottom of the letter encouraging me to continue my poetry. Ms Jenney was the Poet Laureate of South Dakota back in those days. Here's the poem.

Dreaming

I often wonder what I'm here for,
Maybe it's to just dream from birth to death
Of what I want or could be or should be,
For that's all I do to pass the time.

I see many others around me who
Are dreaming too; most of the are
Lost, drifting from one place to another,
Looking for the dream to end their misery.

Perhaps I too will someday be a part of that
Moving, seething mob. Maybe.
What if I wake? God only knows
What a shock it would be to my sleeping mind.

Then there are the others, those who never dream.
Though I often envy them for their power,
Most often I see only someone so tired
But so afraid to dream.

Some of my friends might say, "You liberal snob, you don't know what you're talking about." I think they're right, I don't know the scope the depth the width the inhumanity of racism. I am not sure how I should listen either. So my quest is, hopefully with the help of others, to learn to listen. Some of my friends recommend I listen to FoxNews and the network's most popular star. But I think that person and that type of rhetoric doesn't want me to learn to listen to others, only to him. So I will start searching out other people, books, videos, etc. I've learned that PBS has some really well done documentaries, if you have the time, take a look at what they have to offer.

I'm reluctant to go out because of my health and COVID, but I have and now I worry. I may have to modify my behavior. Maybe behavior modification should be a thing. This image found me in Springfield a couple of days ago as locals came out to support Black Lives Matter. #blm

Black Lives Matter Demonstration #BLMBlack Lives Matter Demonstration in Springfield, VA

Rain drops on our patio tableRain drops on the patio table picking up the reflected light from other things on the patio Rain and light, or is that light rainPun for the rainy day Drops of water fall from glass tableDrops of water falling from the table during a rainstorm

Father-daughter walk. I assumed this was father and daughter but maybe not, who knows. He was masked, she was not. I think I'd be researching why kids don't get the virus.

Bridge and BoardwalkLooking from the Alexandria River Walk to the Woodrow WIlson Bridge

Arlington County ParkArlington County Park Arlington County ParkArlington County Park Arlington County ParkArlington County Park Arlington County ParkArlington County Park

Flower petals with raindrops. B&W conversionFlower petals with raindrops. B&W conversion Flower petals with raindrops. Color versionFlower petals with raindrops. Color version

I was moved to show an image from several years ago that contrasts with the scene I found yesterday. Yesterday's was a lonely walk.

Vietnam Veterans Wall SoldiersVietnam War Era vets posing in front of the soldiers at the Vietnam Veterans Wall Soldier Sculptures Overlooking the WallVietnam Veterans Wall Memorial, soldiers on overloook Vietnam Veterans Wall east sideVietnam Veterans Wall on the east looking toward the Washington Monument  

Haunted Stairwell under the railroad bridge?Haunted Stairwell under the railroad bridge? Probably not but this is the"look" I would imagine.

Discombobulated stairwellI sliced the image into bits and let it fall where it may.

Lone green in a field of blackLone green in a field of black struggling to come in someone's front yard.

Under the railway bridgeMakes me think about how much work needs to be done

A friend mentioned that some of my images "completely fill the frame"  and I thought I would try to replicate that process. I changed the tones and shades to replicate an image taken 60 years ago...I'm feeling my age. I remember having an old Hasseblad with color film, I remember my prints coming out like this.

Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain Rainy Day FlowersFlowers in the rain

B&O Railroad Museum YardThe yard at the B&O Museum in Baltimore, MD, one of the coolest museums in the regiion.

I was out yesterday riding the metro to get to NOMA for a meeting. Lots of people since it was rush hour. I imagine if the coronavirus continues its march westward that there won't be quite so many people about. Pretty scary thoughts, especially when you look back at the flu epidemic a hundred years or so ago. I have more thoughts but they border on the political so I will keep my pen quiet. 

On the metro, I think most people prefer to be invisible, just rolling along waiting to get off. Mostly we read, listen to music, listen to books, sleep, zone out. Sometimes, not often, we talk with one another. Mostly about work, methinks. 

Metro UpDC Metro

Trash incinerator Alexandria, VAFrom the metro parking lot a view of the incinerator in western Alexandria City

Foothills of the ShenandoahsWInter day in the Foothills of the Shenandoahs

Last Thursday, I did a quick walkabout with a friend in the National Inventors Hall of Fame. That's a museum honoring inventors and it's located in the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO). The museum isn't part of the PTO but rather a separate non-profit business. One of the displays was two Mustangs, both driver side, but joined in the middle like one car...like a Brit Mustang on the right. The right side was the cockpit like layout of a 2018 Mustang, on the left was the driver's side of a 1965 Mustang, in black. Talk about memory lane, wow, I had some very, very cool times in that car during the two plus years I owned it and most of them came rushing back as I eased into the driver's seat to take this image. The seatbelt was invented and first put on a car in about 1963. The 65 Mustang was one of the first cars in production to have the seatbelt. I can still remember my neighbor across the street, Dan Doty, whose mother had a white convertible 1964 1/2 Mustang. The first model and certainly the first in my hometown.

   1965 Mustang Inventors Hall of Fame1965 Mustang Inventors Hall of Fame in the PTO

Burke Lake PondSmall stream with a bridge that comes from a pond flowing into Burke Lake

Great Falls on the PotomacGreat Falls at dawn on the Virginia side

USMC A-4A-4 on display at the USMC Museum

St Mary's ChurchSt Mary's Church, Burke, Virginia

I don't think I could become a "birder" because of the equipment required for the serious bird watcher/photographer. Some of the lenses cost more than ten grand and they are huge! That means you have to also have a huge tripod, probably a spotting scope, and who knows what else. I was in Huntley Meadows Park a few months ago very early in the morning when the birders are out in force. I smiled when I saw that one of them had an old fashioned pram or baby carriage and inside, not a baby, but a huge, huge lens. I'm glad they do it, birds are cool animals and some have incredible colors but for me, birds are sort of circumstantial, if they're telling me a story, I am eager to bring them home. Just sitting there a couple of thousand feet away...hurray for them!

Birds roostingBirds roosting on the Potomac River

Encountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian ArtEncountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian Art Encountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian ArtEncountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian Art Encountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian ArtEncountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian Art Encountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian ArtEncountering the Buddha, Smithsonian Museum of Asian Art

I find myself "adjusting" much more when I'm shooting film, and I don't mean adjusting apertures and shutter speeds (altho there is a lot of that), but rather adjust how I am seeing what is in front of me. Sounds silly, but now I'm looking behind me, to the side of me, and lastly to the front. I believe that's because I want to more deliberately put my camera in a position where the "image finding" might be and by habit, I used to only look to the front. This deliberate mode follows into the processing mode since two hours is required to develop and then scan the film. I'm getting better at developing film, not a lot, but some. However, that's not a rabbit hole I really want to go down. I will do film for another week or so, leave it for awhile and probably come back in the summertime for a refocus on being deliberate!

This image is from the balcony at the Glen Echo Park. The other images I'm building from film at in my Projects Gallery.

Glen Echo ParkStanding on the balcony of Glen Echo Park

_______________________________________

I wrote this Haiku a couple of weeks ago but couldn't find the proper image. I have now.

Winter Woods GuardiansStrong, emotional trees guard the edge of the forest at Glenstone

Sunrise at the LakePoem on winter sunrise at Burke Lake, Virginia.

But then, what to do about developing and printing?? Another outrageous expense. But wait, I do have a flatbed scanner that does film! So, I bought a couple of bottles of chemicals, a tank and film holders, distilled water, and...well, now I was theoretically ready to "minimally darkroom" my film. I've taken four rolls, I developed two. I have a lot to learn. I think the Holga was the best. So far. I'm not up to speed anymore on the Rollei but will practice with that in the next week or so. I'm not going back to film but I think the slow pace and deliberate methods will enhance what I do!

The first three are with the Rollei the last two with the Holga! I had fun!!

Old Town Alexandria VendorI chatted with this vendor during a quick walkabout. We talked about cameras, photography, and the wonder of technology from 50 years ago. Waiting at the MarketDog and master waiting at the edge of the market. Dogs aren't allowed on the plaza. Bread! Bread!Lots of super looking bread. Made me hungry!! In the WoodsPicnic ground after the snow. Holga camera taken in late afternoon, an hour before sunset. In The WoodsHolga shot late in the day with long shadows, disappearing snow, mild temperatures.

This image is looking west after we've gone through several miles of mountain rain. Folks who live in the mountains might not appreciate the beauty because they're constantly immersed but I'm guessing they don't forget the possibility of being too close to the ground in really bad weather. Flying or not, there could be a negative thing.

North Carolina Mountain PassJust to the west of Asheville. In and out of the clouds.

Rainy Day in AshevilleWalking street in Asheville, NC

Some things in Haywood Common caught my eye that were "around the room" and I thought I'd bring some of their images home. I'm really fixated on film looks and so changed the final images so that they had the look of film. I'm also actually going to start film again, the old 120mm type from my brand new Holga camera. Stay tuned!!

Common CoffeeCoffee can planter in Haywood Common Restaurant in Asheville, NC Vinyl CornerRelax to vinyl in in Haywood Common Restaurant in Asheville, NC Retro toysToys for kids in Haywood Common Restaurant in Asheville, NC  

I plan on continuing my creative activities and am investigating whether or not I should begin moderating a class on creativity this spring. I have some examples out in the world that have helped me energize my creativity and I want to share those thoughts as well as my spin on making. The theme will be along the lines of motivating your muse and it's never too late to start creating. Although I'm focusing on photography, I might also include writing...poetry or even short, short stories. Any thoughts?

Stay tuned!!

Mythical Island on Burke LakeImage based on a rainy day photo outing.

Rain TreeTree framed by vines during rain at Lake Accotink

This image found me on the western shore of Burke Lake. The fog had lifted, the sun was fully above the horizon! A gorgeous time of the day to be out...very, very still.

Burke Lake at SunriseThe still of Burke Lake at Sunrise

I continue to work with composites and this is another example. I've put some DC images, desert and oceans and some stock into this one. It's a little different. Hmmm. Me, too.

Desert CompositeComposite photo, Joshua tree in the desert overlooking the ocean and Capitol  

                          "Monumental Folly"

History is crucial, but perpsective is the key.

We can't erase the past - or facts - of Davis, Jackson, Lee.

The pain is real - it makes us feel ashamed of decades past

But we can rise above all this, and forge a peace to last!

Those monuments made sense to some 

           - "A source of Southern pride!"

"It's heritage", they all professed -

           - "Respecting those who died".

To some, that's true, but facts remain - 

     They died for their "States' Rights".

The right to beat and hang and rape

      their slaves by day and night.

The Rebel cause - not nobel - but misguided from the start,

Still haunts us with its monuments 

       like knives right through our hearts.

But let us not forget these years - 

       Let's LEARN from them instead!

Don't bury facts, or run from pain

       But face it head to head!

They're monuments to greed and power

       To folly in past days.

But we can make them learning tools 

       for future children's ways.

Perspective is the key for sure, and context gives the clues.

We can't undo the past, but a bright future we can choose!

So take them down!

      Or make them tools to teach us of the past. 

To honor NOT -

       But just to learn how our great Union lasts!

                   Steve Duresky,   12 Aug 17 

AngstComposite image. Lee statue in Richmond. Demonstration in DC. Arlington Cemetery.

Lake Accotink is a manmade lake just a few blocks from my house. When these neighborhoods were built, most people didn't care much about drainage or the environment. Consequently, all of the storm and water drainage goes into Lake Accotink which flows to the Potomac and then into the Chesapeake. But, most of the solids that go into the storm drains actually STAY in Lake Accotink, they do NOT go downstream. After a few years the silt builds up so badly that the lake is only a couple of feet deep except at the dam and so to keep the lake, Fairfax County must dredge every few years. The tax base in the county used to be a lot higher than it is now and so dredging wasn't that much of an expense (relatively) but now, it's expensive. A study was completed and the county supervisors decided to keep the lake rather than just letting the silt build up to the point of making the lake a marsh. I like to visit the lake, the dam is cool, the hiking and biking trails are neat, a small marina with paddle boats and canoes is perfect, and today...well, the fog was perfect. Until it started rolling away!

Looking across Lake Accotink as the fog recedesFog receding across Lake Accotink

Overlooking Lake Accotink fogLake Accotink fog

DaybreakDaybreak in our backyard  

"Lost Words""Lost Words" juried into December's Art League Show at the Torpedo Factory

I am completely befuddled and alarmed by all the real and supposed crises we are having in America. For instance, our forefathers thought it would be okay to impeach someone, they put it in the Constitution. It's normal, not done often but certainly an intent of the forefathers that it could happen!! And really, the likelihood of trump being convicted is almost zero since no republican dares to switch sides, no matter the issues. They are afraid to lose their power if they piss trump and his cohorts off. 

People on the left are ecstatic about all the bad stuff they are hearing what trump and his people do. But they just can't seem to get it through their heads that much of trump's base has picked a side, the side of stars and bars, and no one and nothing else counts.  trump may be impeached but he probably won't be tried. If he is tried, they will acquit within just a few days.

So what's alarming? To me, what's alarming is the complete disregard for the processes of the constitution. If trump is not re-elected, will he give up the office or claim voting irregularities or some other fact that would allow him to declare martial law? I'm betting that the real crisis will happen then. The impeachment will be over (not guilty), the elections will have taken place and we'll either be in a constitutional crisis (if trump loses and won't leave office) or if he is re-elected the beginnings of a political era not intended by our forefathers but probably welcomed by Putin. The late Senator from West Virginia, Senator Robert Byrd, wanted all of us to carry around a copy of the constitution and read it once in a while to remind us what our forefathers were thinking when they wrote the document.

There is almost nothing trump does that is in the spirit and framework of our foundational documents. And there is nothing that trump's base minds about that at all. They won't care until they come for them, and come for them they will.

Now, I'm neither republican or democrat. The danger to our country by ignoring the constitution is grave. We should talk about this and not shout and shoot.

I'd prefer no comments to this post.

Stairwell in AlexandriaStairwell in Alexandria on the docks

Accotink Park Civil War StructureAccotink Park Civil War Tunnel/Bridge

Diane suggested that I try the technique when we got home and so I did! The first thing I did was to call the neighbors and tell them that I'd be walking about flashing lights onto their trees! I did not get the effect that I was hoping for but I did get the idea. I think I will try this again but with different lights and lenses. I had fun and it wasn't too cold. This is a 15 second exposure so you can see star trails and you can actually see the strobes of an airliner on the left side of the image. I could have eliminated the jet as a distraction but chose to leave the track in because I think the track is cool.

Night shot in the drivewayIn the driveway with a flashlight  

National Harbor in the SummertimeNational Harbor Ferris Wheel in the Summer

Old Town AlexandriaOld Town Alexandria, ever vigilant!

I'm writing a piece about art centers and galleries in the DMV which I'll publish in a few weeks. So far, the Katzen is the bomb! Can I say that? Maybe not, but it's really a cool place and fun to visit!

Katzen Arts CenterMichal Heiman's exhibit is captivating.

Huntley Meadows ReflectionTrees reflected in the pond as the sun begins to set

I love the Woodrow Wilson Bridge and this is a high key image from below. I've been all over the Virginia side of the bridge including walking on top to the middle of the Potomac. Perhaps on a nice day this fall I'll drive over to the Maryland side and do a walkabout there. Of course, Marylanders will argue that Maryland actually starts at the Virginia shoreline and they're right, so the Virginia side of the bridge is all landbound. Ah well. A bridge that's not too far.

Woodrow Wilson BridgeWoodrow Wilson Bridge from the Virginia shoreline on the north side

I appreciate The Art League's support for local artists and the opportunity to participate in the community.

And for those of you who arrived here from my email blast which still had the Visual Poetry image, sorry for the older event, although I hope you will keep Glen Echo and Photoworks in mind when you are thinking of the arts. 

I Am Technology #2Baltimore Museum of Industry

Rain Storm at Glen Echo ParkRain Storm at Glen Echo Park

Shattered Windshield in auto salvage yardShattered Windshield in auto salvage yard

The first image is from Old Town, the remainder are from Huntley Meadows.

Biker going through flood on King StreetBiker going through flood on King Street

Huntley Meadows ParkHuntley Meadows Park, if you look closely you can see the red leaves in the distance. Most leaves were just turning plain brown and then falling.

Signs of FallI had to search for leaves on trees that had actual fall colors. Most were just brown. I found this web covered seed pod plant in front of a golden backdrop.

Little Water in the WetlandsMost of the water was gone, puddles and ponds in low spots. Mud islands in what is normally the big "lake-like" part of the wetlands.

Railroad Bridge at Leesylvania State ParkRailroad Bridge at Leesylvania State Park

Washington DC. U Street muralAlley corner in Washington DC. U Street mural

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HONEYMOON

They stood hand-in-hand on the low peak. The rising sun had transformed the sweeping vista of ice and snow before them into a sparkling field of diamonds. This glacier view was the highlight of their honeymoon adventure and they vowed to return to this spot every year to celebrate the majesty of nature and the endurance of the earth as a symbol of their relationship.

Unfailingly, they’d returned to the same peak each year. When their firstborn was four, the sunrise wasn’t all sparkle. The few clouds in the morning sky couldn’t soften the harsh peak that had erupted like a rocket through the pristine snowscape. The rip in the texture of the land was painful and the child didn’t understand its parent’s sadness.

On their tenth anniversary, the two of them walked more slowly than usual and explained to their two children what things had been like just ten years ago. The morning sun was still behind the mountains as they slowly made their way up the familiar path that would take them to their vantage point. They got to the very top just as the sun’s brilliance erupted on the expanse below them, but now, no diamonds, no sparkle, no snow, no ice. Rather, shards of ancient volcanic rock all standing at attention, silent monuments to nature’s wonder.

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Old Typewriter Wasting Away in AshevilleOld Typewriter Wasting Away in Asheville (sounds like a country song)

Poem, "Days of Two"A poem about joy and loss.

Vietnam Wall HaikuVietnam Wall Haiku  

Since my muse has abandoned me and I have nothing creative to show for my outing, I dared to add artistic elements to my images (note the “fence” which is actually the walkway in both images). A small homage to the fall season as well as a thumb on the nose to my muse!

Winter BridgeWinter Bridge is a folk art composite that includes sculpted images from The Plains, Virginia, and the walkway from Neabsco Boardwalk.

Cervantes Coffee RoasterCervantes Coffee Roaster

Kenilworth Park & Aquatic Gardens, Lotus FlowersKenilworth Park & Aquatic Gardens, Lotus Flowers

The promo reads:

Fourteen photographers challenge their vision and step out of their medium to explore images captured through the lens and words that illuminate ideas. Come meet photographers and poets and immerse yourself in two creative art forms. Sit, write, reflect, and share your thoughts.

The image below is a promotional image and will not be in the show but may be available as a poster.

Visual Poetry PromoVisual Poetry Promo

"Coming Home""Coming Home"

Providence FIrst MateProvidence FIrst Mate

Tall Ship Providence in Alexandria, VirginiaTall Ship Providence in Alexandria, Virginia

The image is entitled, "Freedom".

"Freedom"A composition of war memorials in the greater DC area.

Standing tall at Little Seneca LakeLone tree dying in Little Seneca Lake, Gaithersburg, Maryland

Three Dead TreesThree Dead Trees in Little Seneca Lake, Maryland

Mount Vernon BlacksmithThey use original design hardware for the restoration work at Washington's home. This man is fashioning hooks from iron. I enjoyed watching him!

Mount Vernon shed overlooking the Potomac behind the big houseMount Vernon shed overlooking the Potomac behind the big house

Sands of TimeComposite Photo of Kelsey

Thurmont, MDCovered Bridge outside of Thurmont, MD  

Hillwood Museum, Japanese FallsHillwood Museum, Japanese Falls

Washington, D.C. L'Enfant Plaza areaWashington, D.C. L'Enfant Plaza area

Waterfront in Old Town Alexandria, VAArtist on the Waterfront in Old Town Alexandria, VA

Suburban ForestSuburban Forest

Mountain RiverCanyon on a Mountain River

Earthquake

I sat on the floor next to my grandfather

as he lay twitching and shaking from the

brain bleed that would quickly

take his life just moments later.

All that I’d learned about love and life

seemed to fan out before my 14-year-old eyes

as I watched him die, wanting to do something.

Terrified that I didn’t know what.

Then he was gone.

I was certain the world would

pause or salute or shed a tear.

But nothing slowed;

Few noticed.

Nothing changed.

Except me.

This is an image of an old coal-fired power plant that sits pretty much right in the middle of a suburban area between Alexandria City and Crystal City. The plant burned about 3,000 tons, that's 6 MILLION pounds, of coal per day before closing in September 2012 because natural gas was a cheaper energy source. The company has a lease that will go almost to the end of this century and is under no obligation to do anything other than try to clean up the residual toxins. I admire the structure's strengths, lines, its brooding power. That's today. I do not think I would have been such an admirer when tons of pollutants were projected into the air and the water. Probably.

Closed GenOn Plant in Alexandria, VAClosed GenOn Plant in Alexandria, VA

Huntley Meadows WetlandsHuntley Meadows Wetlands

Ferris Wheel at National HarborFerris Wheel at National Harbor

Barns and sheds at Oxon Hill FarmBarns and sheds at Oxon Hill Farm

I enjoy reading the books of course, but I also enjoy imagining what the authors were thinking when they wrote their books. Was writing fun? Did the ideas come from completely within? Were they inspired by someone or something? Did they write the book because there was a deadline? Passionate about something? Bored? Depressed? Terrified? 

The image is from Capitol Hills Books which is close to the Eastern Market in DC. Tens of thousands of books, thousands of subjects. A wonderful rabbit hole!

I may need more books.

Capitol Hill BooksCapitol Hill Books near Eastern Market in DC

Rainy day at Burke LakeRainy day at Burke Lake

Burke Station in the woodsBurke Station in the woods

Potomac RiverPotomac River near Lock 7 of the C&O Canal

Washington National CathedralWashington National Cathedral with sun coming through the stained glass windows and illuminating the left side of the sanctuary. Blue theater lights are on the pillars as they setup for a concert.

I've been to most states in the Union and I have pretty much enjoyed them all (I have not been to Alaska, Hawaii or New England). I would put West Virginia in the top 5 of the "Most Beautiful States" category. I have visited and even camped at Coopers Rock several times and the "Wow" factor has never diminished. This is at Coopers Rock overlooking the Cheat River Gorge; if I were younger I'd hike and climb this really cool place each time I visit. The hills on the way to the Park around Interstate-68 don't really prepare you for what you'll see when you finally arrive at the overlook. After leaving the interstate, you drive for just a couple of miles on a winding, forest road with gentle hills and turns and tall trees everywhere.  You end up in a large parking lot that might have been a mountain meadow. Following the signs for a couple of hundred yards to the "Overlook" you are suddenly presented with this OMG view. I will go back. 

Cheat River Gorge at Coopers Rock, WVCheat River Gorge at Coopers Rock, WV

Joshua Tree in Hesperia, CAI've posted this image before or ones that are similar.

Burke Lake, VA. Infrared post processing treatment.Burke Lake, VA. Infrared post processing treatment.

Burke Lake ice at sunsetBurke Lake ice at sunset

Burke LakeBurke Lake WInter Scene

This first is eggs at sunrise. I had a blank piece of white paper that I curved to make a backdrop and floor for the eggs. They are peacefully sitting on my dining room table with morning light streaming through the patio doors.

Eggs out of basketEggs out of basket

I liked the shadows and so decided to convert this one to B&W and will also submit this one to the project (even tho it's an "extra"). It's a little dark but...that's what I wanted.

Eggs out of basket, B&W I liked this one, mostly because of the cobalt blue bowl.

Fruit bowl at sunrise

I tried all sorts of images with the gold fish. To get these two to look like they were getting ready to leap out of the bowl, I put a dab of yogurt on their sides to hold them to the bowl. Certainly not a superb, gallery quality image but one that I had fun making. In fact, I may expand on the concept a little and have a school of them escaping!

Goldfish escapingGoldfish escaping from the bowl!

This is my least favorite. The light reflecting off the glittery doo-dads is kind of overpowering. But, that's the look I wanted. Bad me. Goldfish swimming in sparklesA sea of sparkles  This last one is a closeup of garlic, onions, and a shallot. I had an entire bowl of them (no danger of vampires in this house) but decided to zoom in to get a closeup of the textures of the veggies. 

Garlic & ShallotGarlic & Shallot ready to cut

I decided to retreat. I'd only come a couple of hundred yards. I stopped to soak up the quiet and the evening's peace. I planted my tripod and looked back towards the visitors center and found this image. I remained still, like the forest, and enjoyed the silent fall of the night.

Huntley Meadows at nightfall.Huntley Meadows at nightfall looking back towards the visitor's center.

In 1970, Armour was purchased by the Greyhound Bus Corporation...who knows why. Armour moved its corporate HQ from Chicago to Phoenix, AZ. The new CEO was Jess Nicks, a Greyhound executive with little experience in the food industry. His daughter is Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac fame. They wanted my dad to move to Phoenix to bring his years of experience to the executive circle...he didn't. Of course, the world changes, Years after my dad retired, Armour sold out to Smithfield which then closed the plant in Huron putting hundreds out of work. When my  dad died I inherited some Armour memorabilia, just a few things. I'd donate them to an Armour museum but there isn't such a place. What should I do with them, I say to myself.

And then. I became curious about still life photography after seeing more of my friend Carole's incredible oils. She walked me through her creative process which is heavily influenced by her graphic design background. She suggested I start with something I enjoy to "star" in the image. I like this old Armour's jug. I surrounded it with other Armour stuff including a really old soap "Big Ben" which was made by Armour before they started making Dial soap in 1948 so this bar is older than I am. The two letter openers are big. The very small sapphire tie tac is something from the Phoenix days. Thanks, Carole, I have a very long way to go but I am starting!

Amrour and Company Memorabilia Amrour and Company Memorabilia

In this first image, the Rodin sculpture is highlighted and silhouetted in front of the rain soaked window. I am learning more about colors and so pulled out some of the gold tones from both the bronze statue and the barren trees in the background. Rodin Sculpture in the Kreeger MuseumRodin Sculpture in the Kreeger Museum

I made this abstract from the reflecting pond in the back of the museum. Most of the building and the structures around the building are covered with travertine which to me has sort of a gold/brown essence. I worked with a black and white conversion of the pond and two of its artistic structures to change the prominent hues to gold, then I did away with the gradations or shades. After I finished, I was reminded of the predominant color theme of the movie, "The Lion King." The "original" B&W is below.

Reflecting pond at the Kreeger MuseumReflecting pond at the Kreeger Museum

Reflecting pond at the Kreeger MuseumReflecting pond at the Kreeger Museum This image is looking up from the pond level to the deck level of the house. I have converted the image to black and white and blurred/distorted some of the internal textures.

Outside stairway at the Kreeger MuseumReflecting pond at the Kreeger Museum

Old House close to Delaplane, VAOld House close to Delaplane, VA

The first image is the Capitol Building dome with the top stories providing a dramatic light show.

US Capitol BuildingUS Capitol Building with lens zoom to create the light show effect I moved off center a bit so I could capture the dome and the Capitol Christmas tree. The tree lights give the image a very seasonal mood!

US Capitol Building Dome and TreeA "zoomed" view of the dome and the tree. At this point, I turned around and "discovered" the Washington Monument. This was a teeny bit more difficult since the distance was a great deal longer and I did not have a super long lens. Nonetheless, the effect turned out pretty good.

Washington MonumentA "zoomed" view of the Washington Monument. If you look closely, you can see the Lincoln Memorial right behind it. After finishing at the Capitol grounds, I started shooting at the Union Station. Surprisingly, there were few people there. The first image is a painterly conversion to black and white of the ceiling in the main area of the station. Majestic!

Washington DC Union StationWashington DC Union Station Ceiling in the main area of the terminal This last image is at the front of the station looking down an exterior walkway. This is actually looking toward where the fire broke out. What makes this shot interesting to me is the texture, color, and architecture of the building, AND, that there are no people.

Washington, DC Union StationUnion Station exterior walkway in front of the station

This crew (Engine 3) showed up in what seemed like seconds. After it was all over, I looked at the "clock" in my camera to see what the total time was from when I noticed the fire to when they had it under control and then "out." The fire started at 9:05 pm, the truck was there about 9:06 pm, the firefighters were fully engaged by 9:07 pm and the fire was under control at 9:08 pm. Now I know that this fire was tiny compared to what they normally battle but I want to tell you that their response was incredibly fast, well organized, and EFFECTIVE. It was fascinating to watch them work. The blaze was just yards away from the taxi stand where a half dozen cabs were waiting for fares. The AMTRAK and other law enforcement folks kept us bystanders a little ways away.

The light was interesting and I had set my camera on a relatively long shutter speed since I was handholding and not using a tripod. Consequently, you'll see some blur in some of the shots. I converted a couple to black and white because they seemed to emphasize the action and drama that was happening. Again, for the firefighters, this was probably very ho-hum but to those of us watching the response unfold, it was very cool.

For the shot below, I'm racing across the street (well, racing for me, as you know, is a relative term). The people taking photos with their phones are shooting the fire truck as it's pulling up. On the right, you can see the first cab in the stand which gives you an idea how close the line of cabs was from the fire.

They took a quick look when they first got there.

And then they headed in with a single hose. I think that the vehicle was some sort of utility vehicle probably run by Union Station. It was sort of like a giant golf or utility cart, about 15' long or so and covered with plastic and other stuff that burned quite nastily.  Three of them are all attacking the fire from the same side.

After just a couple of minutes and who knows how many gallons of water, the fire reduced to a steaming sizzle. The remains of the utility cart are poking through the smoke.

This is the same image but in color. The light was hazy and yellow from the street lights and the smoke and tinted orange by the bright red lights of the fire truck.

They are in the last stages of the process and adding more water and tearing into smoldering pieces to ensure the fire will not survive.

And, by now, it's pretty much out. This image was taken at 9:13. They are in what I would call the "insurance phase," making sure that nothing is still smoldering or even thinking about smoldering. Awesome!!

The shot below are the responders from Engine Co 3. They were kind enough to pose as they were cleaning up the area and their stuff. Thanks to you guys and and your comrades! Awesome work!!

Night Time DC StreetNight time in DC. Holiday festival

"Down, but not done," they said.Homeless sleeping on benches but still with hope. Bottom left in Birmingham, AL, other two from Washington, DC

Corner in Washington, DCCorner in Washington, DC

The Spy Museum Using Zoom LensThe Spy Museum Using Zoom Lens

The Back of the National Archives in Washington, DCThe Back of the National Archives in Washington, DC

Burke Lake SunsetLooking southwest just minutes before the sun set on a clear day with a very wide lens.

Primary Treatment PondPrimary Treatment Pond

The image above is one edge of a VERY large circular pond in the Primary Treatment section. There are 36 of these ponds. This is where the water comes in with much of its "junk" and the junk either floats to the top or sinks to the bottom. Skimmers on the top and the bottom skim the junk into the next stage.

Secondary Treatment Section.Secondary Treatment Section. The image above is one of the secondary treatment ponds. It's a timed exposure to show that the sludge is constantly moving. The sludge normally looks like brown...well, er, sludge. But it's alway on the move. 

Secondary Treatment SectionSecondary Treatment Section The image above is another view of the Secondary Treatment section. Although this is also a timed (slow shutter speed) photo, the time is much shorter so you get a better idea of what the sludge looks like.

The image above shows some of the nitrification/denitrification ponds. This is close to the end of the cycle. Gradually, the plant removes and converts the water from "pure sludge" to pure water and reusable solids (fertilizer). Water is sent to Blue Plains from all of D.C., parts of Fairfax and Loudon counties in Virginia, and, Montgomery and Prince George's counties in Maryland.

Out of service purification/filtrate machineOut of service purification/filtrate machine The image above is an out of service machine. Normally, the v-shaped things are laying flat on the surface below and moving the sludge around.  At the end of the process, we looked at the water and could not tell the difference between the fully processed Blue Plains water and tap water...it was that clear.

This is an awesome place.

Summer FountainFather and son in the fountain at the Wharf in Washington, DC

Harpers Ferry, West VirginiaStone Fence in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia

On a whim, I decided to try an ad lib a video...my apologies to all things visual but I had to try and it's a rabbit hole I will probably do down again!!! In the evening, Diane and I went to the Target Gallery for the opening reception of the Armistice Show. I had the opportunity to provide a few remarks about my art that was included in the show. I mentioned my home town and my high school classmates whose names are on The Vietnam Wall.

Burke Lake, VirginiaBurke Lake, Virginia Burke Lake, VirginiaBurke Lake, Virginia Burke Lake, VirginiaBurke Lake, Virginia

I Touch, I Remember.The Vietnam Wall

Fellow NOVA visitors on a mountaintop orchard close to Charlottesville, VAFellow NOVA visitors on a mountaintop close to Charlottesville, VA

View of Charlottesville, VA from Carter Mountain orchardView of Charlottesville, VA from Carter Mountain orchard

The first image is a Hudson Steam Locomotive that was built in 1926...it looked like the steam locomotive in the second image!! But...the railroad industry was worried about the "new" airlines getting started so in 1946 they covered this locomotive in bright "modern, sleek" looking steel sheathing so that it could compete with the airlines for "modern" travel. Not too long afterwards, steam engines gave way to diesels. This is a way, way cool place.

A Hudson Steam Locomotive in steel sidingA Hudson Steam Locomotive in steel siding Steam LocomotiveSteam Locomotive

I was pleased to see lots of aluminum photographs...something that wasn't an East Coast thing until relatively recently...that is, compared to the West Coast.  Lots more painters this year which I was happy to see. One of them was doing a painting in front of his stand.

Did I mention that my pace was rushed? Sigh. Next year!!

Artist Painting in Old Town Alexandria, VAArtist Painting in Old Town Alexandria, VA

Paradise Springs is a little bit off the beaten path but this Virginia gem is well worth the short drive from Clifton. The surroundings are peaceful...almost Walden Pond-like, quiet and...well, energizing. The people are friendly, fun and VERY knowledgable about wine. Oh...and the wine, exquisite!! Which is why I really appreciate the winemaker's focus!!!

Paradise Springs vineyard at dawn looking back at the 200 year old cabin!Paradise Springs vineyard at dawn looking back at the 200 year old cabin! Early morning harvest!Jane Kinchloe, one of the winery Founders, and Hayley Monroe the Office Manager during harvest.

Crypt in Oak Hill Cemetery in DC. Crypt in Oak Hill Cemetery in DC. Oak Hill Cemetery in DC. Oak Hill Cemetery in DC. Stairway in Oak Hill Cemetery in DC. Stairway in Oak Hill Cemetery in DC.

Bottom line, I really haven't "been" anyplace for the last few days. When I head out, I'm usually ending in some sort of medical facility for tests or poking or 20 questions. I try to drag my camera with me to get some snaps...postcards you might call them. This is a shot from the Mosaic green.

Watching the funWatching the fun

Ron Hicks ProjectRon Hicks Project Ron Hicks ProjectRon Hicks Project Ron Hicks ProjectRon Hicks Project Ron Hicks ProjectRon Hicks Project

Tysons Corner Building ReflectionTysons Corner Building Reflection

Tysons Corner Building CornerTysons Corner Building Corner

Tysons Corner Building CornerTysons Corner Building Corner

Forklift's First FridaysForklift's First Fridays

DC Walkabout DC Walkabout in B&W Class with Capital Photography DC Walkabout DC Walkabout in B&W Class with Capital Photography

DC Walkabout DC Walkabout in B&W Class with Capital Photography

DC WalkaboutDC Walkabout in B&W Class with Capital Photography

DC Faces WalkaboutDC Walkabout in B&W Class with Capital Photography

Loudoun County FairLoudoun County Fair

Loudoun County FairLoudoun County Fair

Livestock JudgeLivestock Judge

Horse wanted my cameraHorse wanted my camera

Midway at FairMidway at Fair

Champion Chicken?Champion Chicken?

Old Barn & SiloOld Barn & Silo

Barn & SiloBarn & Silo

Light PaintingLight Painting

As a side note, the book that's opened is one of the three volume set of "Spencer's History of the United States," which was published in 1866. A "contemporary" history of the Cilvil War.

Spencer's History of the United StatesSpencer's History of the United States  

Kodak CameraKodak Monitor 620

Paradise Springs Winery's VineyardThe vineyard taken from the old cabin.

  Virginia State Capitol BuildingVirginia State Capitol Building designed by Thomas Jefferson

Old Virginia Representatives RoomOld Virginia Representatives Room

Worker on BreakWorker on Break in Richmond