Albums

You know how you sometimes look at photos from your childhood and aren’t sure whether you recall the event from your own memories or from the photo? I’ve been thinking about this a lot and suspect it doesn’t matter. It’s not how you remember it. It’s that you do–the recollection that counts. When he was alive, photography was something my father and I shared. I was the student and he was the master. My work continues as part homage and part bridge to him and his memory–a way to communicate and maintain the bond.

“Albums” is a new home for some more offbeat connections between words and pictures. Whether you’re coming from my social media links or just happened on it while exploring other pages @Trident PRO and trident.tv, welcome to my  new obsession! If you like what you see, drop me a line. Thanks and enjoy.

2018 Gallery of Lost Gloves

[Slideshow]
Loss is a universal constant.
That hole into which all lost things fall
Sodium vapor night light lost
Curbside--half a prayer
Calling out to its mate--phantom hand syndrome

Lost at the Perelman
bike lane
all point to loss
Formalism
Compose yourself

Bent but not broken
okay
Reaching out but no takers
Lost in the bikelane
Lost in the hay

Turkey in the straw
Shadows of loss to come
Hello Dali!
Texture of the open road
True grit

Curbside bent
Not one of her better days
Construction site, gloves on a pike
Almost as if it doesn't want to be found
Will she ever come back for you?

Defiant in decay
Camo
Snow clinging lost, chilly little fingers
Some things decompose themselves
Glove's labor lost--hands will be hurting tomorrow

Abandoned and abused
Crime scene, news at 11
Live long and prosper
Lost in the last snow?
Lost on the stairway to heaven.

Lost on the border between wet and dry
Baby's first lost glove
Snowman found two
Every day, out there tempting fate

 There’s always a way home.