Framing the Sound

Category: life

  • 2026

    On May 12 of this year, I’ll have completed 70 trips around the sun.

    But it only seems like…?

    I don’t make New Year’s resolutions because I can’t keep them.

    I probably could if I took them seriously. But at my age, taking things seriously—like a New Year’s resolution—has gotten a lot harder to do, and I think I know why.

    As you age, your outlook on life changes. You begin to realize you’re not going to live forever, and you can’t take anything with you when you leave. Those two hard facts are the only things I take seriously.

    Seriously though…

    My family, friends, neighbors, acquaintances, and my photography—along with my recent return to vinyl records and tape listening—are things I place great value on. But I can’t take any of them with me either when I check out.

    When the credits play, remember that they were written by me.

  • The Unknown

    That is what frightens me about dying—not death itself, but not knowing what comes after. If uncertainty is the source of fear, then the question becomes: what can ease that fear without having to die to find out?

    We cannot peer into our own deaths. Some have crossed that threshold and returned, and they often describe a similar experience: a tunnel, a radiant light, the absence of pain, and an overwhelming sense of love. Whether literal or symbolic, those accounts are strikingly consistent.

    I’ve read the Bible, and I know I should read it again—and again. I didn’t expect it to give clear answers about what lies beyond death, but it does offer glimpses, hints of what may await us. Before that, though, Scripture is clear about one thing we must endure here: suffering.

    I don’t say this as a doomsayer. I believe that if—and that is a very big if—we have the strength and faith to endure earthly suffering, we can take comfort in trusting that God knows our pain and that our fear of the unknown is ultimately unfounded.

    Let us have faith that God sees our suffering and will reward perseverance. As Hebrews 11:1 reminds us:

    “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

  • Between Light and Sound

    Photography and music are the two most important pursuits in my life—though calling them “hobbies” doesn’t quite do them justice. They both demand focus, creativity, and time. And while I’d love to do them simultaneously, that’s not exactly possible (though it would be pretty great if it were). Finding enough time for each is always a challenge.

    It’s been a little over a month since returning home from our Epic Journey West, and I still haven’t been out with my camera. My Martin D-28 has stayed in its case, untouched. Most of my time has gone into culling (and editing a few) photos from the four National Parks we visited. I took more than 1,700 images—many duplicates (I shot nearly 100 frames of the iconic Moulton Barn in Jackson Hole), a few out of focus, and some that just didn’t work.

    This winter, I’m hoping to finally finish the culling process and carve out some time to pick up my guitar again—maybe even do a little recording with my two sons.

    I’ve also been dedicating time to take part in Blake Rudis’s Vision Session video series. My session is the final one in a set of six and will be available for f.64 Elite members to view in December. The Vision Session series will continue into 2026, featuring more members and their creative journeys.

    I plan to share a detailed post soon about The Vision Sessions and why they matter. Consider subscribing so you won’t miss it!

    View from inside the Chapel of the Transfiguration, Teton County, Wyoming

  • National Parks We’ll Be Visiting Soon!


    It’s been a dream of ours for years to head west and finally experience some of our country’s most breathtaking national treasures. We had planned to make the trip back in 2020, but like so many others, our travel plans were put on hold when Covid-19 changed the world.


    This time, the adventure begins in Cleveland, where we’ll see Alison Krauss in concert. Her music feels like the perfect soundtrack to set the tone for wide skies, mountain air, and days on the road ahead.


    From there, we’ll drive west for a couple of days until reaching our first destination: Badlands National Park. I’ve always been fascinated by its otherworldly landscapes—jagged peaks, layered rock, and endless horizons that seem designed for a camera lens.


    Next, we’ll journey on to three more iconic parks: Yellowstone, Grand Teton, and Glacier National Parks. Each holds its own promise: the geothermal wonders and wildlife of Yellowstone, the sharp, rugged beauty of the Tetons, and Glacier’s towering peaks and pristine alpine lakes


    As a photographer, I couldn’t be more excited. I’m sure I’ll come home with plenty of photos—some that immediately carry vision and others that will need time to reveal their meaning. Those quieter images will wait with me through the long, cold Northeast winter, offering me the chance to reflect and discover the vision I might have missed in the moment.

    Somewhere in Tennessee

  • Framing the Sound

    Camera and chords; two different subjects but one love for both. That’s my dilemma (it’s not really).

    I’ve been strummin a six-string guitar for over 50 years. My time pressin the shutter on a camera started around 20 years ago. I never thought photography would overtake my love of playin acoustic guitar.

    I wish I could say that I’ve played guitar in bands for most of those 50 years but I can’t. I’d guess 10 years, give or take, is about all the time I spent playin in bands. I still wonder where I’d be if, IF I had somehow managed to make a career of it. Not so much as a rock star, just a guitarist playin gigs, and earning enough for survival. And maybe, just maybe havin a chance to play with a national act once or twice.

    I also wonder what a career as a photographer might’ve brought. A chance to meet Ansel Adams or Diane Arbus? Perhaps. I’ve made a few dollars shootin a weddin or three and a few senior photo sessions for friends have been profitable. I made a weak attempt at startin a photography business but was immediately discouraged by the amount of time and effort required for self-promotion and gave up.

    So, I guess you could say I did what the average(?) American white male does – they either get a job right out of high school (I’m a Baby Boomer by the way), or they quit school and join the Navy. I missed the proverbial bus that might’ve carried me to a career in music or photography.

    In retirement now I spend time enjoyin both. They’re much loved hobbies, and every so often, I’ll make a few dollars at a gig or from a print. And that’s fine with me because I think doin what you love in retirement is just as enjoyable as the career might have been.

    That’s my dad on the left holdin the guitar, not sure of the year but lets just say it was a long time ago.
    That’s me on the left, playin djembe with a couple of close friends.
    Self-portrait, 2019, Winter.

  • No, it doesn’t look good there!

    I get that quite often from my wife when I suggest most any decorating idea. And this goes for outside decorations too, places she has flower beds are off limits to any planting idea I might present to her. “No, they’ll look like little soldiers lined up for inspection,” she’ll say when I suggest a row of zinnias here or there. Or, “No, hanging it that way doesn’t fit with how the rest of the room is decorated.”

    There must be something wrong with how I look at things. I had my eyes checked this year and, yes, I needed new glasses. I was also told that I have cataracts, but they’re not quite bad enough yet for removal, or are they? Could that be the reason my deco ideas don’t carry much weight? I don’t think so.

    I think it’s 34 years of marriage. Yes, that’s why I don’t have any interior/exterior decorating skills. But I decorated my recording studio all by myself. And I have a few garden beds where I can plant what I want, however I want.

    I think my straight row of zinnias look nice, and so does the framed photo I have hanging “that way” on the wall in my studio. Even if I’m the only one who thinks so.

    I reckon I’ll have those cataracts removed.

    Spiders can’t decorate either

  • When things change

    Adaptability. If we can’t adapt, it’s almost certain that any significant change we may experience could end up causing a negative impact on our lives.

    Negativity. It could very well be the most harmful stimuli we impose on ourselves. We are hardwired for negativity, we feel it’s sting much more than positive praise.

    The past traumas of my childhood still linger to this day. I remember those experiences more than positive ones. It’s how my brain is wired, and probably how your’s is too.

    What can I do to prevent negativity from creeping in and possibly ruining my day? First, take a more mindful approach and realize that it’s there. Pay extra attention when good things happen. Take a few minutes to think on the good feelings from the experience. Do this several times.

    And try to always tell yourself that tomorrow will bring more wonderful feelings from all the good things that will happen. Having more positive feelings than negative ones gives you a positive outlook on life.