Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its seventh year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

March 7, 2012

MIDNIGHT SUN MOTOWN


... our second house in alaska, home from 1960-1962 ... behind the photographer, always seeming almost within arms reach, the horizon was the imposing saw-toothed outline of the rugged chugach mountains ... to the left, perhaps a thousand feet or so, a virtually impenetrable palisade of pines marked the end of light and the beginning of our most wondrous playground, the dark, deep, endlessly primeval boreal forest ... 

... here our little ford sedan patiently awaits the birthing of two new siblings ... the dads and their friends would gather together on weekends, all of them garbed in no-longer-fit-for-drill army fatigue trousers and starched-to-glare-in-the-sun white undershirts ... scuffed army boots, metal frame sunglasses, watches, if any, were simple ... always, the jingling of their dog tags, i would one day come to learn that that sound was music to which some of them silently chanted the refrain, "i'm alive, i'm alive, i survived" ... a song that let them forget, but allowed them to remember, too ... in their eyes, the shadows of what they had witnessed, as children we understood it was the look of the most dangerous of men, but were comforted knowing the tenderness they sometimes desperately tried to hide was what allowed us to feel so very safe in their presence ... beers and cokes, "smoke 'em if you've got 'em," powerful taboo words hurled at the nuts and bolts that dared resist their efforts ... to me, all of them, they were of a group i wanted to be accepted into when i grew up, the hairy-armed-man club ... in this world, it was my elemental truth that they could do anything ... simply, when one of them happened to need a car, the rest gathered together to help build one ...  imagine my surprise, later in life, when i discovered that automobiles were manufactured in factories, not assembled in the back yard from odd parts ...

... i know that technology has improved transportation, that today our cars are safer, more comfortable, far more efficient ... despite all that, however, i know that no fancy "store bought" car i drive will ever be quite as neat as the ones which my dad built with his own hands ...

ARGUS C3-CINTAR 50MM-F/8-1/100TH-EKTACHROME-ISO 80

ICE SHADOW


... don't be hesitant about creating mystery ... yes, there're those who pass by such, knowing they've no desire to work to conclusion, but, for others, there is the thrill of figuring things out ... remember, you needn't take a picture for everyone, or, in fact, any one, rather, it is that your images are first for yourself that will bring you to being a better photographer ...

NIKON D200-SIGMA 17-50MM@F9-1/20th-ISO100

CUPS FOR JOE


... go for a stroll, don't pick a destination and don't forget your camera ... don't "look" for pictures, instead, just let your eyes wander the landscape ... what you seek is contrast, juxtapositions of symmetry and asymmetry, light and dark, linear and nonlinear, singularity and repetition ... remember, it is only in allowing yourself to see things as common do they become so ...

NIKON D200-SIGMA 17-50MM@F4.5-1/20th-ISO400