Yours Truly
I am an expatriate Tar Heel removed in 1992 to the village of Round Pond, Maine, with Esteemed Wife Joan and sons Duncan and Benjamin. My career, such as it was, involved work as a newspaper reporter, editor, and editorial writer. I also have done a little honest work in my life, such as digging trenches for plumbing, hauling masonry blocks and cleaning carpets. For a while I drove the short bus for the local school system. Currently, I'm employed by a non-profit agency that supports developmentally disabled individuals.
Between 1967 and 1971, I served in the U.S. Army Security Agency, and did tours of duty in Massachusetts, Vietnam, and what is now Eritrea, on the horn of Africa. By far the most danger I ever faced was driving in the city of Boston. After Beantown, Saigon, Hue and Asmara were child's play.
As a photographer, I made a conscious decision to turn away from the ugliness, disaster, mayhem, murder and destruction I saw in the Army and during 14 years of newspapering. The first frame of film I shot as a police reporter in 1978 was a dead man crumpled upside down in a smashed car. It was all downhill from there. So now I'm concentrating on images that, ah, engender gentler forms of contemplation and reflection, all of which can be found in good measure along the coast of Maine. The sea is the mother of us all, and as good a metaphor for god as I can imagine. If you're looking for images that rub your face in the vagaries of life, you're in the wrong place.
I don't enter contests, apply for grants or otherwise seek "official" approval. In Bob’s world, "official" derives from "offal." What photographers, curators, gallery owners and critics think interests me no more than a passing gull squawking outside my window. No, make that “less than a passing gull squawking outside my window.” Sometimes, squawking gulls are interesting. Only two opinions matter: Mine, and yours.