My camera is my sketchbook producing digital files upon which I digitally doodle.I also use black and white photographic film in a $3 camera named Diana and is known for more than a touch of myopia.My computer's screen becomes the canvas where I distress perfectly sharp images in order to reflect on my surroundings, the feelings they arouse, my emotions. I can extend or subtract from the color palette or eliminate color altogether, seeking mystery for my narrative of a town I call home. I think of ghosts when I walk my village neighborhood or when I wander in the hills above my home. The ghosts of native Abenaki who planted corn on the fertile soils of the Connecticut River intervale, plateaus and hunted on the wooded hills. There are ghosts of explorers and militia and ghosts of settlers running sleighs up the frozen river.
Native American ghosts and immigrant ghosts -- Scottish, Irish, English.
One room schoolhouses still stand, laughter trinkles out into misty mornings.