The year bleeds away to its inevitable conclusion. Outside frost and cold and a smattering of clouds but still only the faintest, nearly imperceptible luminance in the east. I glance through the blinds to see if the trashcan is still upright or dumped and its innards scattered to the four corners of northeast … More Transition into new
One of the joys of being a professional photographer—a term that still gives me the hives whenever anyone says it—is the constant learning required to master the craft. This is remarkable considering that school was 12 years of unremitting torture, other than for 6th grade when I sat next to a pretty blonde … More Seasons greetings from Oz
The gray-haired man in the hospital bed looked more dead than alive but I discerned a slight twinkle in his eye as he studied the photo I’d given him. It was him in a better day, and not long past, when he stood in a faux-saloon in a little town in northeastern Kansas … More Remember this
Lori said, someday this house isn’t going to work for us, and I said, you’re right. In my mind I saw us as senile and white-haired, bent and frail and leaning on solid oaken canes, faces like dried prunes. What are we going to do about that? she asked. … More This old house
Above all, keep your spirits up, I told myself. Look on the bright side. Okay, then, here’s a bright spot in an otherwise bleak day: It had taken a ridiculously long time to position myself on the edge of the examination table, and nobody was there to witness it. Nor had … More Day after day after day
When my father told me he’d had a nasty bout of shingles, that it was the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced, I had no idea what he was talking about. The word brought to mind roofing tiles, or, as I sometimes see in deep woods on hot muggy mornings, bright orange clusters … More World of hurt
On a cloudy, humid August afternoon where uncertain skies threatened either sun or storm, David Douglas DeArmond turned off Highway 9 and drove north toward Greenleaf. His maroon Honda CRV slowed at the city limits and thereafter crawled along at a snail’s pace with his head swiveling left and right as if detached … More Inspired by car run, KC artist sets out to paint every town along the Kansas White Way
Few things in life are more tedious than having to listen to converts gush about their conversion experiences, whether religious, ideological, psychological or political. No matter how extreme, egregious or mundane the former sin (or lapse, as it were), the particulars all hew to the same pattern: I was lost, and then I … More Cast iron convert
What Lilah said, the way she said it, the way she pushed her hands outward as if trying to slow some oncoming force or releasing a bird or a thought or a wish, something ephemeral and flighty, the way her blue eyes bored into mine. The way she bent over the … More The killing grounds
We were exhausted the following morning having arrived home filthy and mud-crusted around 1:30 a.m. My brother Reece, never an early riser, nevertheless showed up on our doorstep at a reasonably early hour for our return trip to the Ojito Wilderness. Though there were two opposing theories about the timing of our return—later … More Return to Ojito
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