A Photo Geeks ups and downs through words and images.
Below is a picture an exhausted me took heading back to the bus after my second hike along the Potomac River since Easter. I liked the old world look of the building and how the unassuming Amish women complimented it. All in all, a rewarding day.
After years in Seattle and Virginia. The planning of a road trip to our former home in North Jersey was long over due. Being that we lived in Hoboken and Jersey City for the first fifteen or so years of our marriage. We experienced many of our adventures just across the river from where we first met and married. The plan came together when we learned that a long time friend was finalizing her bands tour in Jersey City. How else could we get to see as many familiar friends at one place and at one time?
Over the weekend, my wife and me took a trip north to the area of New Jersey we once called home. During those two days we covered a lot of ground and met up with a respectable amount of old friends and loved ones. One, a long time friend and photography mentor met us at a otherwise overlooked Irish spot on Clifton. This friend, one who had met some health issues head on and conquered them was full of life and laughter. He made my wife smile from ear to ear and even knocked my hardened personality back to life. As our meet up began to wind down. He pulled out a coffee table book on the famed photography and directorial icon Herb Ritts While the book served as a priceless token of our friendship. One I can’t imagine I earned. It served as a reminder of my childhood visits to DDB (Doyle, Dane, Bernbach.) where my Mother was a financially struggling secretary.
As a ten year old, it was such a privilege being brought up to the art department where artists and designers were working on the next, best sketch, art piece, or movie poster. The work, along with the artists I met, gave me an early passion and understanding of art that influenced me to draw and ultimately dive into photography. Years later, I was sitting next to a friend catching up on one another’s travels and run ins. The time was short, yet conversations through regular phone calls Kept us up on the important things. As our time came to an end, he revealed a old brown bag. Within, a book to brought back the memories of the apartment I grew up. Yes, we were poor, but my Mom always brought art and art books given to her at work. Things and memories that enriched us in countless ways. Funny how two unrelated stories reflect one another. I guess that’s life.
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