Category: Aging
More To See
David Duncan Douglas died at 102. War photogs don’t usually live that long. I won’t either. But I hope, in the few years I have left, to make more humanistic photos and become acquainted with more artists who will let me see them work. At least I have something to take my mind off of dying.
This is an old friend, Geebbo Church, noted artist and educator.
I Chose Life
So, Oliver killed Komar and I lost my career and almost everything else. Sharon turned to me as we hugged under the covers, reporters gathered under our windows keeping me locked in my home, “…, you aren’t going to hurt yourself, are you?” No one else cared enough to ask.
Many probably wanted me to. People even wanted to kill me. Now, I don’t have anything I can do about not dying, except to live to experience it. But, I still choose life and will as long as Sharon keeps loving me.
Poor Spade and Bourdain. How lost and alone, even though they seemed to have anything they could have wanted – fame, fortune, funds. Goblins got them. No one wanted to be with them where they were, depressed and despondent. Their families and friends deserve comfort, for sure, but where were they? Had their own lives to worry about, I guess.
Wondering How To Feel
So, I have gotten bad news before: death of my father, jobs, an ex-wife, family, friends. Nothing hit me quite like, “you have cancer.” Then came, “…, and we have a pill that works.” We waited and saw for a few months, not as long as I had hoped and started treatment. 7 days of this chemo. Just don’t know how I feel.
My Pirated Life
Bruce Kison died at 68. I got a few more years than he. He pitched in relief in the 1971 World Series, one that heralded the end of day baseball in the Fall Classic. He left the game for a pitch hitter who drove in the winning run and therefore earned a win while not doing much more than holding the Orioles from scoring for 6 innings. He got an obit in the NYT with two pictures. Baseball stats don’t lie.
Back To The Future
PEE WHEN YOU HAVE TO
When you pass 70, sometimes you have to go. Then again, if you are in Russia where the prostitutes rain, they get to go.
John G Morris, Dead at 100
In 2015, I attended a photo workshop in Paris with Peter Turnley. We went to John Morris’s apartment, looked at his images and books, listened to his stories. Then we went to dinner at a cute place on rue St. Louis. Nobody knew who he was.
Through his work, John G. Morris allowed us to see places and get close to people we would not have otherwise known. In doing this, he taught us to see. Think about all the great photographers he knew: Chim, Cappa, Cartier-Bresson, all the giants.
A debt is owed to all photojournalists, especially the ones who gave their lives to help us understand man’s humanity to man, apologies to those who would find this politically incorrect.
PURLIFE
What I really need to do is stick to a fitness plan. When I travel or shoot, I am moving. To keep abreast of the worlds of photography, US Government and art, including movies, books and museums, I sit. While my knowledge grows, my health suffers. Mmmmm.
This guy works at PURLIFE, a gym for the healthy in Del Ray. Too far to drive. 1/2 hour in the car for exercise leads to more sitting, even though NPR or a podcast is on the radio which defeats ignorance. Tough choices. I will go for a walk.
ANYBODY HOME
George Romero died. He taught me to be scared of the dark. Hell, I am old, which means I don’t carry heavy things and I get tired earlier. But age, the early age of television, let me watch Bela Lugosi while my parents were in the other room doing whatever.
Dracula didn’t scare me, because Zacherly was there to intercept them.
But, no one helped me with George. He made me believe in zombies.
“They’re coming to get you, Barbara.”