Cora Duckman and Little Lorry

So, I finished mourning my Mother’s death, 30 years ago, almost to the day. She died right after I was charged and way before I was convicted (that was still 30 tortuous months off). Still not sure how it happened though she told me she heard Governor Pataki railing at me. The next I knew, she had a heart attack and died, leaving me motherless and family less.

I will always blame Pataki and his Court of selfish fools, along with all of you who ruined my life and my career. I read the words you wrote and saw your faces as you testified against me, made fun of me, humiliated me, denigrated me, banished me and convicted me. I never recovered.

We should never hate even those we don’t get along with or understand. And we should not jail or kill those who love freedom and justice, especially the ones without the power or money to defend themselves.

I light a candle for her.

Meet the Artists

So, I had a picture selected for a group show of Art in Public Spaces at the Palm Beach Airport. Hadn’t seen my work since it was hung. Looks better than on my laptop.

Proud to be showing with a group of fellow artists from the area.

 

Oranges and Jay Pirka

So, picking up where I left off. Been sick. Recovered. Back to still life from the Golden Age in the Netherlands.

Oranges. Make you smile. Symbols of good fortune. Skulls to remind us all we are mortal. And some flowers to lighten up our lives. But without a targeted medication, DEAD.

Peter Hurley Shoots The Duck

So, I attended a Headshot Intensive Workshop orchestrated by Peter Hurley. Worked my ass off, as did all the others. Two days of lectures, shoots, looking, learning and reflecting.

I was the only attendee who shared prints. Most just showed on the back of their phones. I wish everyone printed. Photos are a truer version of the art of photography. They feel better in your hand. Don’t get lost on the phone. Become more special when framed and hung. And you can get nearer or farther away, feeling the warmth and meaning of