In Melissa's Kitchen

A friend asked me to help with the prep for a republication of The Good Housekeeping Cookbook. We cooked our way through the entire poultry section, every recipe had to be created from the original, tested and tweaked at times. Dozens of birds of all kinds were roasted and basted and tasted. This was Melissa’s kitchen at the time.

Melissas Kitchen

Pot-Lid Portrait

How do we view ourselves in the world? That is a question that continues to intrigue me. What “filters” or distortions do we create in our thinking of ourselves, and which ones are created by that which reflects us in everyday life?


Alberta Farm

Camping across Canada I arrived at this farm one afternoon. I was about five minutes ahead of the thunderstorms that day. The sense of scale, of land rolling along away from me for miles was heightened by seeing this silo at this distance. As I walked down the long road to the farm itself, I realized that this same silo was far bigger than I’d imagined from the main road. The grain silo towered over the entire farm as bug as an apartment building. it was so large and so out of scale that it took fully 20 minutes to understand how far way i had been when I had taken this picture from the roadside.

Alberta Farmfield

Nyack Garden

See the world through the eyes of a child, open to everything as though for the first time. This exhortation often spins through my mind as I am wandering in neighborhoods I know well. Expanding they was we experience the world by shifting the view is one way to retain that wonderment of the mundane.


The Adirondack House

I like exploring the small towns around my home with my 4x5 Wista field-camera. The tins roofs of many buildings reflect light in a way that puts me in mind of Writers like Stegner and Albee. Writers of the earlier western united States, who wrote about the dustbowl era and the depression. That same depression has its fingers in our time, in these towns. Economically depressed, hit hard by flooding last year, many are still rebuilding their homes and their lives. These are towns that depend on tourist throughout the year to sustain them. With the floodwaters came visual devastation. What tourist would be lured by that?


The Thunderstorm

The thunderstorm rolled across the sky like a symphony of drums.


The clouds pushed through each other as though racing for a finish line at the far edge of the mountaintops. First one darker and lower was in the lead, then a lighter, airier cloud soared ahead of the pack. they tumbled across, around and through each other speeding towards an imaginary end-post.

Snow Against Grey

The snow streaming against the grey of the old building next door reminds me of the West, of the aging towns that once were bustling with activity and are now silent, of old poems that talk about dusty buildings falling into earth from age.


Lilliputian World

What if we were all Lilliputian?
Is this how the world would look to us at breakfast?