Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts

Monday, October 30, 2023

Middletown NJ Photography Exhibit: My Reflections

Below are my four contributions to the photography exhibit hosted by the mighty Black Glass Gallery on the theme of "reflections." The opening reception (which is always fun) is Friday, Nov. 3, from 6-9 p.m. at the Middletown Arts Center, and the exhibit will be on display until after Thanksgiving. Hope to see you there! (I'll be arriving a little later, because "traffic to the shore on Friday night" is always traffic to the shore on Friday night... even in November.)

Captions in haiku.

One Vanderbilt

Mirrors in the sky.

Crowds multiplied, divided,

rarified, alone.


Trump World Tower

Vanishing fortress,

haunted by neighboring clouds,

surrounded by ghosts.


Museum of Modern Art

Visiting MOMA,

two lovers reimagine

Rene Magritte’s kiss.


Jersey City

I’m head over heels.

You turn my world upside down.

I never forget.


Here are four others on the same theme, not on display in Middletown but (of course) on my Instagram accounts: @bvarphotos and @foundinnj 🙂


Sunday, June 4, 2023

The Evolution of a Saturday

Posting here about an ordinary Saturday, which began when I noticed a Rambler Rose blooming on a vine that my wife and I feared had died over the past winter.


Later, we traveled to Queens to see the New York Mets -- who lost. It was cold and windy where we sat. The day before, the temperature had reached 90. The scoreboard said the temperature was 63 at game time, and it never changed, but it seemed much colder in the wind.


At the end of our row of seats sat a couple with a baby. A man sitting next to me with his son returned from a food run in the early innings with a wool Mets hat he had purchased for the couple's baby. They were strangers when the game began; they left as friends.

At the end of the game, Mets relief pitcher Adam Ottavino (an excellent photographer who, like me, grew up a Yankees fan) talked to the New York Post about his time with the Mets and Yankees. He said the modern Yankees fan has "a little bit more of an expectation of perfect play and an All-Star at every position. Whereas I think the Mets fan, the expectation isn't quite as high. It's more of a level of hope."

Hope is a journey where great things are possible but not expected. I prefer this approach to life: the unexpected act of kindness, the unexpected rose.

While we were at the game, my daughter stopped by our house to feed the cats. She texted photos of post-prandial Batman, illustrating an essential lesson in portrait photography: the angles make all the difference. 🙂



Before returning home, we stopped for a Guinness and a Harp at a favorite Irish bar -- The Cottage in Teaneck, NJ. The bartender there reminded my wife of her late brother, who lived a kind, too-short life. We toasted him.

The place was filled with laughter. Small groups of friends were competing in a trivia contest, and one woman wore a black sweatshirt proclaiming, "Pigeons Are Liars." On one of the TV screens above the bar, I watched Aaron Judge -- my favorite baseball player even though he's a Yankee -- crash through the rightfield bullpen gate at Dodger Stadium to rob J.D. Martinez of at least a double.

On the journey home, I stopped to take a photo of St. Mark's Episcopal Church. Every Sunday, I post images of churches in New Jersey on one of my Instagram accounts.

It's an odd hobby, but it often fills me with hope.

Sunday, May 14, 2023

Haiku at Sandy Hook


Emerald City.
I can see it from Jersey.
There is no wizard.


It's no secret: I love New York's skyline, and I often write haikus about the city: Exhibit 1 and Exhibit 2.

The view above is an edited version of what you'd see about 20 miles away from the northernmost point of Sandy Hook Reservation in New Jersey.

In un-filtered real life, you can even pan right to see the Parachute Jump, the iconic, now-dormant ride at Coney Island:


I visited Sandy Hook last weekend with photography friends from Black Glass Gallery.

These next few days are an ideal time to visit for yourself. Sandy Hook is part of Gateway National Recreation Area. If you get there before Memorial Day, there is no entrance fee and no charge for parking. It's a wonderful place to explore, with plenty of room to avoid crowds.


As Friend ChatGPT tells me, the park is named after the Sandy Hook Peninsula, which is a narrow strip of land that extends for several miles into the Atlantic Ocean. One of the main features of the park is the Sandy Hook Lighthouse, built in 1764 and one of the oldest lighthouses in the U.S. Visitors can climb to the top for panoramic views.

Another popular attraction at Sandy Hook is Fort Hancock, is a former military base that was active from the late 1800s until the mid-20th century. Visitors can tour the old barracks, gun batteries, and other historic structures at the fort.

Still, for me, it's the view from this platform, looking about 20 miles to the north, that's the biggest highlight:


I can't help myself. Just yesterday, Google Photos randomly sent me this video compilation of the New York City skyline photos from my photo cloud -- many taken from the back of a NJ Transit bus commuting to or from work. Google randomly chose a great Tears for Fears song as a soundtrack too (and assures me it is not a copyright violation :)

I love New York, even if there is no wizard there.



Tuesday, January 31, 2023

January’s Poems: Devastation, Gorilla Monsoon, and Groundhog Day

Images generated by DALL-E 2

I’m writing poems based on prompts every Sunday from New Jersey poet Dimitri Reyes. Although I’ve taken some liberties with the prompts, I hope to continue this throughout 2023 and post these poems monthly. I’ve already posted my first and second poems here. Following are the other poems during this five-Sunday month.

—————————


The prompt: Write about something you’ve been devastated about.


POEM 3: Diary of a Sociopath

 

I’m a boy playing minigolf

in rural New Jersey along Route 46.

It’s the site of a strip mall now.

 

My playmates, young Sheryl and Eddie,

were neighbors then.

Their house, a used car lot now.

 

It was Mother’s Day then.

 

Tires screech.

A car horn blares.

A sudden, sickening thud of metal on metal.

A woman screams.

 

I miss my short putt.

 

Minutes pass,

and we witness her death.

The children in her car are silent.

Her dog wails.

 

Sheryl and Eddie are speechless.

I grow restless.

I rearrange my stance over a bright yellow, dimpled ball

and aim for the mouth of a clown.

 

Can I have a do-over, I ask?


—————————


The prompt: Write a poem using these words: mule; monsoon; traveled.


POEM 4: Ode to Gorilla Monsoon

 

We traveled through seven man-made holes

in the mountains of Pennsylvania.

Heading west, Dad squinted behind Saratoga Ray Bans:

The last cold warrior, the Republican JFK.

 

Dad was behind the wheel of our black Chevy Impala,

his hands recklessly at 12 and 6.

He said it gave him more control,

as Hank Williams crackled “I Saw the Light” across WINB AM.

 

Beads of sweat formed on Dad’s clean-shaven cheek,

releasing the incense of Old Spice.

Our car leaked smoke from his Micronite-filtered Kents

rising from a half-inch crack in the driver’s side window.

 

Arriving from New Jersey at dusk,

we parked in front of a modest house atop Mount Pleasant,

and my uncle rushed to place cinder blocks

behind our low-slung wheels.

 

The next morning, amid cornstalks on a hillside,

my cousin and I wrestled, diurnal primates at play.

His hero was Bruno Sammartino,

and I was a poor substitute for Gorilla Monsoon.

 

I am not a fighter.

I ate a mule kick on my cousin’s follow-through,

as Dad watched in the distance.

He flicked his cigarette to his feet and turned his back on me.

 

I was always a sucker for a sucker punch.

I woke this morning

threescore years and precisely 338 miles away,

with a phantom pain in my side.

 

I am the Survivor Series antihero.

And I remember everything.


—————————


The prompt: With Groundhog Day upon us, read this poem by Len Lawson and write your own poem where the speaker repeats the same day over and over again.

 

POEM 5: Groundhog Day in Ramsdale

 

In the month of January,

I wrote a poem every week.

 

Prompted by a poet,

each day I wrote more words for you,

but I have not gotten anywhere yet.

 

In the month of February,

I will wait for your return:

I’m still in love with you.

 

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

 

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I’m still in love with you.

 

Repeat, editor, till the month is full.


—————————


PS: Here's a visual poem  "Groundhog Day 2023" — with images of the NYC skyline from the Lincoln Tunnel helix on my morning commute via bus during January:



Monday, January 30, 2023

ChatGPT Visits the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Museum of Art courtyard viewed from the Armor Room.

I wanted to post some photos here from a recent visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I had suggested the “immersive Monet” exhibit in NYC, but my wife preferred we check out “real-life Matisse.” For background and context, I gave ChatGPT a few prompts and out popped the following words. Not bad!

I, for one, welcome our new robot overlords:

The Philadelphia Museum of Art is a must-see destination for any art lover visiting the city. Located in the heart of Philadelphia, the museum boasts an impressive collection of over 240,000 works spanning 2,000 years of world culture.

It isn't uncommon to see visitors engaging in playful activities on the front steps. One such activity is pretending to be the iconic fictional character "Rocky." Visitors raise their hands above their heads and jump in triumph, mimicking the famous scene from the first film in the series.

Upon entering the museum, visitors are greeted by the grand staircase, which leads to the main galleries on the second floor.

One of the highlights of the museum is the American art collection, which includes works by some of the most famous American artists such as Winslow Homer, John Singer Sargent and Edward Hopper. The museum also has a significant collection of European paintings, including works by Monet, Van Gogh, and Renoir.

Diana atop the grand staircase, decorated for the holidays.

Matisse’s “Large Reclining Nude” (1935) and
“Woman in Blue” (1937), including the skirt
worn by the painting’s model. 
During my visit, I had the opportunity to attend the special exhibition "Matisse in the 1930s" which featured over 80 works by the artist, including paintings, sculptures, and drawings, as well as a selection of his personal objects from his studios in Nice and Paris. This exhibition provided an in-depth look at the artist's techniques and the way he used objects in his studio as inspiration for his work. (Note: This exhibit closed yesterday... and I think ChatGPT is actually describing a previous Matisse exhibit here.)

I also had the opportunity to view the painting "Sunflowers" by Vincent Van Gogh. This famous painting, which is one of the most popular on display at the museum, is renowned for its vibrant colors and dynamic brushstrokes. It was a true highlight of my visit to the museum.

Unfortunately, I also set off two proximity alarms while viewing the paintings, but it was a reminder of how close you are allowed to be with the paintings and how precious they are.

So excited… a little too excited… to see this up close.
I also set off an alarm tripping over Zoe Leonard’s floor sculpture.

Overall, a visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art is a truly enriching experience. The museum's vast and varied collections, special exhibitions, and educational programs make it a must-see destination for any art lover.

This is where ChatGPT stopped writing, but here are a few more images:

Degas in Philadelphia.

Video exhibit by Visual AIDS.
Lots of nooks and crannies in this museum!

This is an unfinished Cezanne, which I liked very much.
The Matisse exhibit also showed some of his works in progress,
and I liked the rougher, early versions better.

Had to wait until all the people jumping like "Rocky"
stopped posing on these steps 🙂

Saturday, September 10, 2022

Visiting the Warhol Museum: Ambivalence and Awe in Pittsburgh

Standing next to a large photo of the artist at the Andy Warhol Museum
Me and a photo of the artist, using a "Warhol Effect" filter.
It's only fair I appropriate his style.

Nancy and I took a road trip to Pittsburgh earlier this week, ostensibly to see the baseball Pirates host the New York Mets.

On our way to an afternoon game, we crossed paths with the Andy Warhol Museum. I was excited to see the works of this New York City legend, not realizing that he was born in Pittsburgh. Also, not realizing that I was about to enter the largest museum in North America dedicated to a single artist.

The experience was a head-spinning, comprehensive portrait of the artist. To me, it was a portrait with flaws.

Let's talk about the elephant in the room. The photo below, in one of the main exhibit areas, is a work by Keith Haring, who painted over a papier-mâché sculpture Warhol had purchased. 

Haring's elephant, unfiltered.

I love it. It's Keith Haring being Keith Haring and nobody else.

Then I looked around at what I thought were Picassos on the walls. They were works by Warhol in Picasso's style. Warhol, it seemed, tried to be like everybody else.

I looked at all the photographs on display, taken by other people and manipulated by Warhol. Then I watched some screen tests (filmed, silent portraits of visitors to Warhol's Factory studio in New York). Some on video, and many of those surrounding Warhol in black-and-white photos, seemed to be broken people. I read about suicides in the fine-print captions of various screen-test participants, actors in his films, and subjects of his art.

On one hand, Warhol produced work that seemed to exploit other people. He mastered the art of appropriation, taking possession someone else's work or image. As Warhol himself once said, "Art is what you can get away with."

On the other hand, his art put a spin on banality to create something with more meaning and permanence.

With ambivalence, I also watched a few videos of Warhol while there. He seemed elitist. In real life, I fear he'd make sure I knew I wasn't one of the cool kids.

Andy appraising Nancy while giving me side-eye in another room.

But then I noticed more layers to his life: His collection of kitschy folk art was heart-warningly "normal" (to my worldview, at least), like a visit to my guileless mother-in-law's house in Nutley, New Jersey.

Front of Warhol's Mass card.
Also, I read the Mass card from Warhol's memorial service at St. Patrick's Cathedral in 1987, where Yoko Ono delivered one of the three eulogies. On the card, the parish priest from the Church of the Heavenly Rest on 5th Avenue and 90th Street noted that Warhol poured coffee, served food and cleaned up after meals provided there to the homeless, hungry and friendless on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.

Warhol was only 58 when he died. I'm in awe of his accomplishments in his too-short life.

I'm older than that now, and I've never done as much hands-on for those in need.

Also, all my creative and artistic achievements could fit in a single folder in one of the filing cabinets on the entire floor of the museum devoted to Warhol's archives. All seven stories of the museum in Pittsburgh display only a portion of all Andy Warhol's creative work.

I'm a weekday commuter to New York City, fated never to be world-famous for 15 minutes or eulogized by a pop culture icon. As I write this on a Saturday morning in New Jersey, I'm watching Bugs Bunny cartoons and Nancy is reading the news.

I take small comfort in the fact that I lead the type of ordinary life Andy Warhol might have appropriated to turn into art.

---------

Following are some scenes from the exhibition.

Ordinary people imitating art...


Warhol's extraordinary art, including "Elvis - 11 Times"... 


The obligatory gift shop in the lobby, and the world's last (and most decorated) pay phone in the basement...


Leaving the museum, we walked across the Allegheny River on the Andy Warhol Bridge. The homeless, hungry and friendless were pan-handling; the tourists pretended not to notice.

Several love locks attached to the grill of the walking path were numbered Master locks. With the right combination, these locks can be easily removed should love prove not as lasting as art... 


Sunday, September 4, 2022

10 Slices of Life in New Jersey

Two views of Wesley Lake in Asbury Park
Wesley Lake, Asbury Park

Last week (Aug. 29-Sept. 3), I had fun taking over the Jersey Collective Instagram account. And you can too! There's a story pinned to that site with more information about how to apply; another story pinned there will take you to more information about the new "New Jersey Fan Club" anthology.

I've loved raising a family in New Jersey and currently live in Bergen County. About five years ago, I started a Found in New Jersey Instagram account to document the eclectic beauty and whimsy of life in the Garden State.

Below are my recent @foundinnj guest posts at Jersey Collective. It's my own "top 10" list, of sorts, with things to like about New Jersey.

- 1 -

Above are two images of Wesley Lake, with a distant view Ocean Grove from one of my favorite places: Asbury Park.

Citgo tanks along the Turnpike; Bon Jovi rest stop along the Parkway
To get there, I drove down the Turnpike, past Linden's iconic roadside Citgo storage tanks (made world-famous by the opening credits of "Sopranos" episodes), to the Parkway, stopping along the way at the Jon Bon Jovi rest area.

At the Asbury Book Cooperative on Cookman Avenue, I attended one of Project Write Now's Tuesday evening "Write Out Loud" events, open to all.

I read this essay I wrote for one of their classes. I figured, "What better place to talk about Springsteen?" and I was touched to see the audience snap their fingers in appreciation. PWN has great writing courses/events for all ages, and the Asbury Book Coop sells copies of "New Jersey Fan Club" at the front counter. Check it out! Go during the day (after 11:30) and you can ride an Asbury Park Pedal Boat on Wesley Lake too.

- 2 -

Four scenes from Asbury Park

More from Asbury Park, from visits over the past year. I like the place most when it's haunted, before and after hours, when the boardwalk is empty and streets outside the Wonder Bar and Stone Pony are quiet. I often visit with friends from Black Glass Gallery for photo meetups at sunrise. Check out the Black Glass Gallery Instagram account, where many of the best photographers from Asbury Park and around the state contribute photos from New Jersey, Pennsylvania and New York.

- 3 -

4 scenes from American Dream Mall

58 years ago today (Aug. 30), the Beatles toured New Jersey in the back of a fish truck (a limo would have been too conspicuous) before performing that night at Convention Hall in Atlantic City. You can look it up (thanks, Weird New Jersey).

Today, such a magical mystery tour might take them to American Dream Mall in East Rutherford, where they (and now YOU) could ride in an air-conditioned cabin on the Dream Wheel, a 300-foot Ferris wheel, or stroll through an indoor rival to an Octopus' Garden, or film ski scenes for "Help!" at an indoor slope in the middle of summer. I'm not generally a fan of malls, but this one makes me feel about 58 years younger.

Pro tip: check out IT'SUGAR, the three-story candy store there.

- 4 -

3 skyline views of Manhattan

What's your favorite place to view the New York City skyline from New Jersey?

Recently, I saw it from the top of the Ferris wheel at American Dream Mall (the top photo above, #nofilter).

Just about every day I sneak a photo while riding in a New Jersey Transit commuter bus (driver's side on the way in to work in Manhattan; passenger's side on the way home to New Jersey) on the Lincoln Tunnel Helix in Weehawken.

I've also seen the city's skyline from as far away as the beach at Sandy Hook.

When driving, the view often appears suddenly, as if approaching Emerald City. I've seen it from Route 17 heading south in Bergen County, Route 80 heading east in Hackensack, and... a favorite... Route 3 heading east in Nutley. I should pull over for that!

- 5 -

2 images of fireworks at ballparks

Fireworks and baseball are two favorite things.

I recently attended a Somerset Patriots game at TD Bank Ballpark in Bridgewater, where there were post-game fireworks DURING a distant thunderstorm (photo above, right). You can see the threatening clouds in the photo, but I'm pretty sure it was a Brett Baty HR that ignited the storm. The minor league season is short, but there's a final Patriots home stand you can attend Sept. 13-18 (with fireworks on the 17th).

Meanwhile, in Montclair, I attended a fireworks night (photo above, left) following a Jersey Jackals (love that name) game in July. Their season already over, the Jackals announced recently that the team WON'T be returning next year to Yogi Berra Stadium on the Montclair State University campus.

I'll miss seeing them there, but maybe there will be baseball to see in 2023 at a refurbished Hinchliffe Stadium in Paterson?!?

Teams to see on my bucket list: the Jersey Shore BlueClaws, Trenton Thunder, and Sussex County Miners.

- 6 -

Images of a red barn, a sculpture of dancers, and a boardwalk in nature

Where's your favorite New Jersey park?

Looking back to winter (feeling wistful during this summer's heat and draught), I visited two personal favorites.

New Bridge Landing, on the River Edge/Hackensack border, includes several historical buildings, particularly a red barn that's picturesque in the snow. The site is maintained by the Bergen County Historical Society, which is hosting its annual Baron Beerfest there on Sept. 24.

I also visited snow-covered Grounds For Sculpture in Hamilton Township, where ticket sales are currently open for its Nov. 2022-April 2023 nighttime lighted exhibits.

More recently, thanks to NJ Spots, I found a new (to me) park to visit: the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge in New Vernon, with well-kept walkways through beautiful greenery. NJ Spots is a great resource for exploring New Jersey!

- 7 -

Images of 4 casual dining places in NJ

Thursday is #DateNight, and while all these places may not be date-worthy (depending on your relationship status), all are wonderful, in a New Jersey sort of way.

Here are four possibilities: Rutt's Hutt in Clifton, Pizza Town in Elmwood Park (which is not closing, as rumored; it's just under new ownership... although, sadly, Tavolino Pizzeria in Wallington closed its doors Sept. 3), White Manna Hamburgers in Hackensack, and the Summit Diner.

Press of Atlantic City file photo
Earlier this week, I posted about the Beatles' visit to Atlantic City in 1964. There's an (infamous) photo of them holding a giant sub sandwich from the White House Sub Shop... so that's on my wish list too.

All these places are perhaps guilty pleasures. What places are on your Date Night list? Asking for a friend :) 


- 8 -

Images of the Devil's Tree, Devil's Tower and Annie's Road

I posted this on a frightful Friday, facing the unofficial last weekend of summer (although the meteorological end of summer was Sept. 1). I'm wondering: What are your favorite haunted places in New Jersey?

Here are three places I've dared visit:

The Devil's Tree tree stands alone in the middle of a large field off Mountain Road in Bernards Township. It remains standing because anyone is cursed who tries to cut it down, according to local legend.

The Devil's Tower is located on Esplanade Road in Alpine, where a jealous lover leapt to death in 1922. As every schoolgirl at nearby Academy of the Holy Angels will attest, if you drive or walk backward around the tower three times, you will face the actual Devil.

Along "Annie's Road" in Totowa, you will see roadside memorials for the ghost of a teenager (sometimes called the "vanishing hitchhiker"), dressed in white, killed late night in the 1960s by a pickup truck as she tried to find her way to safety along unlit Riverview Drive. Local legend says she had fled her boyfriend's car after an argument on Prom Night.

PS- if ANYONE can tell me exactly how to find the Gates of Hell in Clifton (I've looked twice), I'd appreciate it.

- 9 -

Double rainbow at Garret Mountain overlook

Months ago, I caught a double rainbow over Paterson at the scenic overlook at Garret Mountain Reservation.

I like to visit Paterson when checking in on Mom, who lives nearby. Yesterday, I stopped by the Great Falls to see the Passaic River aglow with algae. I also strolled by adjacent Hinchliffe Stadium, now a full-scale fenced-in construction site (and future home of the Jersey Jackals?) where Dad played semi-pro baseball in his teens.

Need an occasion to visit NJ's 3rd largest city? I recommend the Paterson Poetry Festival, Oct. 1-3 (more information available at Word Seed). Allen Ginsberg grew up in Paterson, and the Poetry Center at Passaic County College sponsors an annual awards event in his honor every February.

Below is a poem I wrote inspired by the view from Garret Mountain. Forgive me, Allen.

Text of a poem
post here about the evolution of this poem 

- 10 -

The outside of St. Patrick's Church, with a plane landing in the background

Church buildings can provide quiet inspiration, and they often have wonderful stories to tell. I wrote about that as a contributor to "New Jersey Fan Club," so here's another shameless plug for that book.

About this image: Someone told me there had been crosses atop the two majestic front spires of St. Patrick's Church in Elizabeth, but that the crosses needed to be removed in 1961 due to damage from the vibration of low-flying planes at nearby Newark Airport.

Call me Doubting Thomas, but I didn't actually believe that until I visited there this past winter while a plane was landing!

This ended my week posting at Jersey Collective. At @foundinnj, I'll continue to post sights from around the state and, every Sunday, another image of another church.

See you there?

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Hamlet in Suburbia: Why I Love Photography


Here's another shameless self-promotional photo of me (far left, which is as political as I dare get when posting here), holding a copy of the new "New Jersey Fan Club" anthology with some co-contributors.

We had gathered this past Saturday at The Corner (top right), a great little shop/studio in picturesque Flemington, NJ, to talk about photos published in the book... and what prompted our love of photography.

For me, it always comes back to Dad. He bought an Olympus 35 while overseas with the Navy, then took family photos in the ensuing decades. My Mom, sister and I used to love to gather in the family room to watch his slideshows. And now it occurs to me that exactly two years ago, I posted here about recovering Dad's slides from his 1955 trip to Barcelona.

Which I still haven't visited.

Several veteran news photographers who were artists at their craft also inspired me, and tolerated my questions, when I began my career as a reporter. I'm thinking especially of the late Tom Lynch. I once posted about him here. I still haven't collected and displayed his photos, as promised.

I'm also thinking of Chris Sheridan at Catholic New York, and Ken Lauben in my days as a corporate publication editor. I searched for Ken just now, and found his obituary. Nearly three years ago. I had no idea.

The older I get, the more I wish I could stop time. Which is why I love photography, and why these words from the recent finale of the TV drama "This Is Us" so resonate with me:
"We're collecting these little moments. We don't recognize them when we're in them because we're too busy looking forward. But then we spend the rest of our lives looking back…trying to remember them."

Anyway, since The Corner is owned and operated by the talented photographer Dave Norton, I booked a session with him so I could update my social media profile photos. Here's me, still left of center and wearing Dad's old tie, on Saturday, July 23, 2022, pretending the person in this image will never age:

Lord knows, I try to keep up with technology and social media... and I do love taking cellphone photos (preferring the camera I always have with me to the Canon I hang around my neck when going on photo-shooting adventures with friends).

As I explained to those attending Saturday's event, I even dream about these things.

This month, while in bed in suburban New Jersey, I dreamt I had created AI chatbot modeled after Dad, so that he and I could still have text conversations today, even though he died in 2005.

As our "conversations" grew more vivid, in my dream, I noticed that photos of Dad began appearing on my Google Photos feed. I had never seen these images of him before, and I couldn't fathom who took them. Dad was rarely in the family slideshow photos because he was always behind the camera.

One last photo stood out among the others. It was my Dad and Mom standing side-by-side, facing me, like the man and woman in Grant Wood's "American Gothic."

Scrawled on the bottom of this image, hand-printed in the same small lettering Dad always used when writing captions on the outside corners of his 35mm slides, was this message:

"Avenge My Death!"


Sunday, June 26, 2022

Showing a Little Faith, Friday Night in Hoboken

St. Matthew Trinity Lutheran Church, Friday night in Hoboken.

"Church buildings never pass judgment. They simply remind us of transcendence amid ordinary life."

The quote above is from my reading Friday night at the Mile Square Theatre in Hoboken.

Now that Google is sentient (and litigious), I should be careful with this post. According to a publishing agreement, I can't repost chapters of the new anthology, "New Jersey Fan Club."

But, in response to friends, I can say I greatly enjoyed reading from my photo essay, "Finding Religion in New Jersey." The people with me in the photo below are especially wonderful and talented, especially editor Kerri Sullivan. Not pictured is Hoboken's mayor, Ravi Bhalla, who was especially gracious to us all on Friday:

You should follow these accounts on Instagram!

Since the theme of my reading involved religion -- or, more accurately, faith -- it was a bit bittersweet to bring up the topic on the evening of the Supreme Court's overturning of Roe vs. Wade. So many friends on social media were expressing heartfelt feelings of disillusionment with institutional religion.

With all this in mind, below is an excerpt from what I read -- about my hobby of taking photos of New Jersey churches. In the anthology, this passage is prefaced with the note that churches have "graveyards," while "cemeteries" are burial sites not on church grounds: 

Churches connect us with past generations, and nowhere more so than at a church with an adjoining graveyard. 
In New Jersey, the dead outnumber us. Over 96,000 people are buried in Totowa, where I grew up, a borough with a population of only 11,000. 
Recently I took Mom to visit Dad's gravestone there. "I'm getting tired, Bob," she said to the ground, not to me, for both our names are the same. "I want to go home." 
Everything dies, and our graveyards are haunted with memories.  
Meanwhile, their churches testify that there’s more to life than this, and they affirm our innate belief that love lasts forever.


"New Jersey Fan Club" -- which includes contributions from dozens of writers, photographers, poets and artists -- can be purchased online at Rutgers University Press and elsewhere, or in real life at local bookstores across the state.