The colors, sights, and sounds of the South

I just returned from working in a region of the U.S. that I haven’t visited in decades – in fact, not since I was a small child. The South; specifically, Georgia and the state in which I was born – South Carolina. The people are welcoming and hospitable in a way that is synonymous with, and can only be described as being “southern.”

A world of screened-in porches, fried green tomatoes, and kind-hearted people who always have time for a story and a laugh.

A place where conversation and low-country cooking are art forms of a by-gone era: both created and tended with an ingredient so refined and vital that it cannot be imitated or faked  – Time.

In the south, people are serious about their history, church music, pride, and sweet tea. These are people, and this is a place, that I have to return to visit again very soon.

“These are the quicksilver moments of my childhood I cannot remember entirely. Irresistible and emblematic, I can recall them only in fragments and shivers of the heart.”  Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides
















Then and Now continues

Then and Now has been an ongoing collection. Kids that I had photographed years ago – now reappearing as adults. Grown. Experienced. Changed. LIfe and time tell the story.

A recent update

Kelly. I first photographed him in his days of adolescence, acting, football, and yes, blonde spiked hair. Thirteen years later  in San Francisco: The artist. Finding his way and exploring his love of art. As with all of us, the years and life have changed him somewhat – but the laugh, perhaps a bit more reserved, that is the same. He paints the way he lives; with passion and without regret. A gentle and kind soul with a lifetime  – perhaps even several – of stories and experience.








A few favorites:



the art of death

I have become a bit fascinated with visuals that have been chosen to be the markers of life. Often simple, mostly dignified, sometimes ornate and on occasion . . . confusing. I  am enthralled with the talents of those individuals to whom the tasks of creating the visual memorial have been be given. They seek (or have sought) to create the emotion of a person’s entire life in a three dimensional form.

Like all art, I suppose the meaning and connection is in the personal interpretation of the viewer.  I would like to think that the art is a statement about the person who is to be remembered – and I imagine that in some way, years and years later, they will continue to be remembered in the art that is left behind.

The Zentralfriedhof of Vienna. An enormous place that is the final resting place for  the famous and the common: all significant and all remembered, by someone. Today, every day, and for hundreds of years.

Emotion in stone:

The famous:

Sometimes – the name stands alone:

Sometimes: artistic interpretations as  statements of life

and sometimes, it is a pair of lantern holding dwarfs as guides for the door to eternity:


czech the light


Historic, beautiful, surreal. Light reflected in the water, through a window, or in the eyes of the Czech people. Everywhere it shines, it is beautiful.


Chance Encounters

It’s a little surreal. I sit in my small but comfortable apartment in Vienna. It is raining – but only lightly. The windows are open, the breeze is cool, and across the one-way and narrow street, a pianist practices. The music is beautiful and interrupted only occasionally by the fastidious repetition of what must be precisely choreographed arpeggios on the keyboard. His windows are open, but I can’t see him. I do know, however that he plays in the house where Franz Schubert died. The music – ironically is that of Mozart.

It gives cause to consider the person beyond the window: the details and complexity of a life going on and my fortuitous placement in this place and at this time.

Me and theVenus(es) – there has to be something to this.

The last time that it rained here, I visited the Naturhistoriches Mueseum. There is something about being alone among the art and artifacts of history and greatness. The jewel of the Museum of Natural History in Vienna is undoubtedly the Venus of Willendorf. It is the most famous early image of a human. And, at just under 26,000 years old,  it is the oldest representation of a human being. That being significant enough – I found as I was looking, that I was the only person in the room. Without argument, the most recognizable icon and artistic representation of humanity in the history of man, and I am the only person on the planet standing in front of her. Not just a moment or two between groups –  for almost twenty minutes . . . not a soul entered the gallery – not even a museum guard. Perhaps stranger, I have had a 1:1 experiences in Florence with Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and in Paris with the Venus di Milo. Alone in the presence of iconic Venus(es).  I wish that it meant something significant. With Lady Willendorf, the feeling is “older” and perhaps in some way more significant.  At four and three-eighths inches tall, she is magnificent.

In a few hours I am off to Apartment 30 upstairs where I am expected for drinks – precisely at five o’clock. I have been invited by a sweet and amiable couple from Australia. Well into their eighties: she quite chatty and he with an enthusiastic smile and an immediate story to tell. We met yesterday on the entryway of the apartment house. We spoke only for a few minutes and delighted in the immediate companionship of being foreigners together – each with enthusiastic appreciation for the homeland of the other. They have traveled the world together in their twenty-five years of retirement – and have chosen Vienna as their final trip abroad. They are delighted and they are delightful. Hopefully their photos to follow.

In the meantime – other encounters of beauty and chance.


For today, it’s all about color.

A new time, a new place, and a new look at color.


I guess we all would like to leave an impression after we go. Sometimes it might be temporary, like dust on a window – and sometimes something a little more lasting. Remembering Leo and Mozart.

More to come . . .


I have once again had one of those experiences when I have gone to see someone I know in  a concert and have found myself goofy and speechless by talent that just blows me away.

I recently photographed Gordon Goodwin for his newly released CD That’s How We Roll. A delight and a pleasure to work with. As long as I have known him I have been aware of his talent and musical genius – just part of the reality that comes when the phrase “Grammy Award Winner” precedes a name – but watching this man live on stage is . . . amazing.

The release party for the album was a couple of weeks ago.  In a venue packed with aficionados and the elite of the jazz world, Gordon and his Big Phat Band did what they do.  The crowd was ecstatic from the very first note. By the end, they were out of control.

Once again, I have been awed and schooled with what the music world has recognized and honored for years. Seriously, this guy is unbelievable.

A few shots:

June 2021