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My Dad

/ still a dreamer / 17 Comments

I had wanted to find this particular photo of my Dad for a quick post on Instagram. I knew it was somewhere among the photo albums my Mom had meticulously put together, and which documented our family’s history from the 1800’s. It was a photo of my Dad taking a picture in our backyard where I grew up.

And there you see it. That would have been his Leica camera, the predecessor to his Nikon F that he bought later on. My Dad was an amateur photographer, and really quite good. He had a real eye for composition, getting people right, and an overall good photograph.

There aren’t that many photos of my Dad, mostly because he was the one always taking the pictures. In looking through the albums, I found more than I expected. But I didn’t want photos of him as a child, or on wedding day; I just wanted him.

My Dad was a kind, gentle soul. He was very intelligent even though he only achieved a high school education, which was pretty common back then. He knew a lot about lots of things, and was skilled in several areas – he was an excellent gardener and had flowers always blooming. He knew his way around all kinds of tools, and finished our entire basement on his own. He did every kind of home repair imaginable.

I followed him around like a puppy, asking lots and lots of questions. And while his green thumb never rubbed off on me, I learned to be quite competent in plastering, painting, and even building simple things from wood – “the right way”, he would remind me.

I’m sure he would have loved it if my brother and I were more sporty, but still, my Dad had us out bowling, taught us how to play tennis and to ice skate. He taught me how to swim in the Atlantic Ocean when I was just a toddler, out past the breakers where it was safe. And to not be afraid of the water. He instilled a love of driving and going places in me, and who knows how many other things I’ve since forgotten.

Maybe most importantly, his love of photography had a positive impact on me. I was given a little Kodak Brownie camera at 9, and was taking pictures every chance I got. When I began my B.F.A, I hadn’t yet decided on a major, but perhaps no surprise, it ended up as Photography. And to this day, I am always, always happy when I am taking pictures.

My Dad with my brother, taken before I was born.
I just love this photo.

I think he worried about me sometimes because as I got older I had so many ideas and things I wanted to do that were outside of what he considered safe or sensible. Like owning a car in New York City. But I did, and he adapted. And the one thing he always was, was proud of me. I’m not sure I always knew that at the time as I became increasingly headstrong and wanted to live life on my own terms, but I know now that he was. And I know he’d be the proudest father on Earth, knowing his daughter got published this year for the first time.

If I didn’t say it then, Dad, thanks for everything. You helped me more than you could know.

Seeing Art …

/ still a dreamer / 10 Comments

The pandemic and other factors in all our lives have affected us and often left us feeling “trapped inside” and missing what we used to do. Personally, I am done with it. I need to go out and see the world again (carefully, of course). To that end, I went out this morning to a vegan place for breakfast I’ve been wanting to try and for a visit to see some art at the Hunterdon Art Museum in Clinton, NJ.

Above are The Three Graces by Toshiko Takaezu at the front of the museum, the side view, and an untitled piece by Noriko Sakuyama.

As I’ve spent quite a bit of time in photo prep, I am going to refer you to the museum’s website to learn more about the artists’ work, if interested.

One of the pieces by Maxwell Mustardo in his Dish-Oriented exhibit.

Above are several images by Rina Bannerjee: Blemish, In Deep Pink Everyplace Begins, both sculptural and drawing. The last image was a discussion if the Chinese Lanterns in a 3-D piece were real or constructed by the artist.

This marble bust is best described by the accompanying text. You can see more of this installation on Instagram @jeannebalsam, if interested.

There was also an exhibit of some student work on the third floor.

Above are images of the Red Mill, an iconic landmark in Clinton, just across from the museum on the other side of the South Branch of the Raritan River. At the base of the waterfall, if you hadn’t caught it right away, is a Blue Heron, wading.

Okay, I’ve been out! Soaked in some sunshine, had a wonderful visit with a friend and some art, plus a great breakfast — what more could one want?

River Walk – Spring 2022

/ still a dreamer / 8 Comments

It was a gorgeous, sunny, spring day, so I decided to get out and take a walk down to the river. I was pleased to find that the dead brush had all been cleared. Now I could easily cross the overgrown and abandoned train tracks to the top of the steep incline that slides down to a plateau approaching the river.

I was even more pleased to see that someone had put in some makeshift stairs on that slope, and I could now walk up to the water’s edge (and a good drop.) But something else was different. There was a walking path going north and south, paralleling the river. And while I took some photos, I watched someone hiking south on it. This was new, and I loved it.

It wasn’t an “official” path, but worn enough that it could easily be followed. I don’t know its starting or ending points, but that people could walk the river just made me real happy.

Meanwhile, it was my plan to walk north, check out the Delaware from the bridge, and see how spring was looking in our town. There were lots of cherry trees in bloom, red maples, tulips, and other plants and trees coming into flower.

I don’t know what these large, soft, fuzzy buds will bring, but I love them — like small, alien creatures reaching out to greet me as I pass by.

A view of the bridge from the greening trees near its approach. Soon these trees will fill out and the bridge will become invisible.

White-barked trees, likely sycamores, at the water’s edge are just coming into leaf. Looking north, the river seems endless on this sunny day.

Just a stone’s throw from the bridge, and with a gorgeous view of the river for those who come visit, is our town’s lovely B `n B, Chestnut Hill on the Delaware.

Today, I look out my window to quite a different view. Rain has been falling all day and will continue through the weekend. The wind is whipping up and the temperature dropping, but it’s all good. We need the rain, and there are always walks to be had, always changes and growth in the trees, shrubs and flowers to be seen. I am so grateful to live where I do, to have such beauty around me. It is a gift.

That time is upon us ….

/ still a dreamer / 9 Comments

The time when we think of reaching out to family and friends, and putting a little something special in the mail to them.

That said, I am sharing one of my French Bulldog Christmas cards to inspire you. Although, in all honesty, I describe them as holiday cards because they are truly suitable for whatever winter holiday you celebrate.

I know you’d love to see more, so please hop on over to my Etsy shop and check out what’s there, and yes, if you were wondering, they are all Frenchie-themed. But … recipients don’t have to be French Bulldog fans; if they have any appreciation of cuteness in animals, that should do. Thanks!

Change

/ still a dreamer / 13 Comments

Sometimes change is imposed from without, and outside our control. Our best bet can be to adapt our thoughts and feelings and make the most of it. Sometimes change is completely self-motivated and filled with all the fear and exhilaration that a major shift can bring. And oftentimes, it’s a combination of both.

Change can happen in a moment or evolve over time. Such has been the case in my life where I have recently decided to end a decades-long relationship with a client, who, in all reality, was more like an extended family in many ways. Numerous endeavors of my own have been waiting in the wings to grow and flower, but have always taken a back seat to the immediate demands of fundraising, design, writing, getting to press, and so on. Not to complain. Doing all this on behalf of animals has been an incredibly rich part of my life.

But then things change. New people, new thoughts. Out with the old, in with the new. And change doesn’t always seem the best, especially if we feel differently as to how it deals with a cause that has been near and dear to our hearts. And especially when all these other ideas and wishes and dreams of one’s own have been clamoring for expression, or at least, more of it.

And so change challenges us, heals us, pushes us to take the steps to grow. In my case, to write, to draw, to help new people to grow and change, too. It can all seem to be happening at once, but in the end, we are bright and new, even if a little shaky on our newfound legs.

It seems that the daily advice on my Wayne Dyer desk calendar has been speaking to me. On November 5th, he said, “Go beyond the ideas of succeeding and failing — these are the judgments. Stay in the process and allow the universe to handle the details.” I couldn’t have been given better advice.