My Anti-Biography | Part 62 - Family Photos

 My Mother upon Her Graduation from High School 

  

 

 

My Step-Father, Mother, Grandmother, and Me (circa 1970) 

 

  

 

 

Mary and Newborn Keith 

 

 

 

 

Our Super-Intelligent Cat, Oak, in Repose 

 

 

 

 

My Daughter Mindi and the Boys 

 

 

 

 

 

A Mood 

I'm tired of all the hate, all the disappointments, the constant financial struggle, the 25 year effort to discover, understand and document the Dramatica theory and all its implications for human psychology and interactions, the 25 year battle to get people to open their eyes and see the potential it holds to help us know ourselves and live in peace with others, and all of this instead of pursuing my own art, self-expression, or even spending quality time with those I love and the pleasures I enjoy. Yes, all of this instead of a contented life, always troubled by the pain of others on the other side of the globe, the unfairness of birth defects (as we used to say in the age before political correctness and sensitivity training). I understand now why people retire. Not because they cannot push on, but because they are just too exhausted by long life to find the motivation. Wouldn't it just be damned wonderful to wake up gently and enjoy that sleepy state while lying amidst the soft, warm covers, un-pestered by cats screaming for food, to be let out, or assaulted by the smell rising from the litter box too close to the bed. To rise, eventually, step into my cushy slippers, and settle into my even cushier couch. Leave unopened this spawn computer and peruse the paper, as in the old days of unwitting tree-killing, and smile at a story of kindness, brilliant achievement, freely shared insight, accurate information, and splendid art. Alas, that is all fantasy, stitched together from small glimpses of that Greater Good, like fragments of a hologram, stapled together, so even if you manage to find all the pieces and put them in the right places, it is still all full of holes. So here I sit, embracing the next best alternative - to drown myself with caffeine (after looking up the spelling of caffeine because the spell-checker couldn't figure out that's what I meant by caffeine, but knew enough to tell me I was wrong), pry open my aging laptop (that has no remaining flash memory and a battery that holds a charge just long enough to get from one wall plug to another) and put all of this discontent out into the ether like every other mindless social troller (other than those who lather on the platitudes until your sight dims from witless memes and your lips grow numb from repeating them). Yeah. Blow me. 

 

A Family Album 

 

In the stories above, a number of folks have been mentioned: family and friends.  Often, there’s no picture with which to connect to them.  And some folks don’t yet have stories as I haven’t found their mementos yet in sorting through my boxes. 

Still, they are dear to my heart, one and all, so here are a scant few images from the tens of thousands of pictures in our family albums dating back to the early 1900s, just so’s you’ll know. 

 

Mary in 1977 

 

At our first apartment in Burbank, California 

 

My Favorite Picture of Teresa  

 

Sutter Creek, California, circa 2006 

Mindi with Grandpa Bob 

 

At our cabin in Pine Mount Club 

 

My son Keith, Christy, and Matt 

 

 

Mindi, Ed, Nicholas, and Thomas 

 

At Nicholas’ preschool. 

Outside the Box 

 

Though going through my dozens of boxes of mementos and memorabilia is the primary consideration on my mind, for more than half a century I have enjoyed a career as a filmmaker, photographer, composer of music, writer, artist, and philosopher. 

Creating in these various media has always been a large part of my life.  And so, I feel no anti-biography would be complete without presenting at least a few samples of these works, even though most are readily available through other venues and channels of distribution. 

 

Photography 

I’ve been a passionate photographer for fifty years, inspired primarily by Ansel Adams, though my subject matter extends beyond landscapes and portraits. 

Here are a few of my favorites, just to give a flavor for this aspect of my creative endeavors. 

 

Motherhood 

 

The story behind the image: 

This photograph was taken at the Los Angeles County Fair, an annual family outing since 1962.  Shortly after my mom married my step dad and we became a new family. 

We lived in the suburbs, so for me the excitement was staggering: the sounds, lights, displays, and entertainments, contrasted by the barns with livestock, the outdoor lighting and pool display on the hill, and the amazing varieties of foods all around the huge hanger-like rooms filled with hucksters and salesmen demonstrating their wares to a surging sea of goggle-eyed onlookers. 

When I had kids of my own, I continued that tradition, and now I join my kids with their children, watching the wonder in those young eyes that still remains in mine. 

But these days, I’ve taken to looking for unusual visions I can capture as we stroll the grounds.  This image was taken as we toured one of the livestock barns.  I was drawn to it because I knew it would be the cropping that would make the shot, turning an ordinary picture of a nursing pig into an abstract comment on the essence of motherhood. 

 

Music 

 

 

Evensong 

 

 

 

Obsession 

 

 

Art 

 

 

Poems 

 

 

Snippets and Bits 

 

 

Philosophy 

 

 

Dramatica 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vox Mentis 

While making a nice cup of hot cocoa for Teresa, my capricious mind came up with this little bit of street poetry. I suppose I'll have to finish it now, but here's the first part as it spoke to me in my head in the voice of Tom Waits: 

I’m jumpin' 
like a toad 
in a hole 
in my heart 

And I'm leapin' 
like a lizard 
as my soul 
falls apart. 

More to come, next time the voice speaks. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Critter Day at Darn-Hill Manor: Cricket in the water dish, grease ants in the water filter ( IN the filter! ), and Giant Raccoons in the Koi pond at 4:30 A.M. 

All water-related.  What does it mean?