Only A Dream Tank Top

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A once splendid red barn, now in the throws of entropy. Lower sierra foothills, along California highway 120.





In the morning when I wake up and listen to the sound
Of the birds outside on the roof
I try to ignore what the paper says
And I try not to read all the news
And I'll hold you if you had a bad dream
And I hope it never comes true
'Cause you and I been through so many things together
And the sun starts climbing the roof

It's a dream
Only a dream
And it's fading now
Fading away
It's only a dream
Just a memory without anywhere to stay

The Red River stills flows through my home town
Rollin' and tumblin' on its way
Swirling around the old bridge pylons
Where a boy fishes the morning away
His bicycle leans on an oak tree
While the cars rumble over his head
An aeroplane leaves a trail in an empty blue sky
And the young birds call out to be fed

It's a dream
Only a dream
And it's...

As a kid I was fascinated with photographs. Look, Life magazine. National Geographic. That well-captured interplay of light and shadow...the notion of people, places and moments - all suspended in time. My first "real" camera was a Minolta Srt101. I was seduced. As a teenager, I learned how to develop film while working at Wyle Laboratories in El Segundo, and I still recall the smell of the developer...my eyes adjusting to the red filter light...and the sheer magic and delight of watching images begin to emerge. Life, family and a career as a teacher and psychologist intervened, not to mention a few more film cameras. Eventually, there was digital. Hah! Liberation! Photography is the creative medium that allows me to share...