CONTEMPORARY EXPLORER

  There are long walks in medicine through the sterile walls of clinics and hospitals. Thoughts of diagnosis and treatments bounce in your head, dealt out by doctors and nurses you only see for a short time. A physician once confided that in medical school, you are taught to treat the patient. To always cure the ills you see. For the patient though, the cost of the cure may be greater than the benefit, not just the money, but the depths of the side effects, length of time spent.  There are dragons that live in the depths of hospitals. There to help, but breathing fire. There are times when the medical matrix confuses. What are the next best moves. Sometimes it feels like no one is there to answer the questions. You look for promised miracles. In high end stylish clinics with all the decor and appearance of warmth, you can become a ward of the cure. The care you are given craved and repeated until you find yourself there more than away at the life you knew. I like many have gre...

  I admit to liking oak paneled decor and warm lighting. So upon entering the new AC Hotel and finding no wood paneling, I had to tack to relate to the place, moving my thoughts back and forth. It was a gray taupe upon gray, even the sparse decor items, a vase, a book, a few plants were such a dark green as to evoke no variety. I’ve always found you can learn most about a hotel from the lobby level one, the vibe of the place. Level one of this place did not disappoint, perhaps the still closed kiosk shop outside the entry should have prepared me. OK, the floor to ceiling LCD display with alternating colorful artwork impressed. So much that I looked around for a cup of coffee. I just wanted to sit in front of the display to avoid my being blended into the gray decor, lost forever.  At the small circle semi bar, lobby snack and coffee spot my mood began to change. Three affable patrons sat across from me, getting a last cup before heading to the plane. They were engaging, ex...

  In quiet moments, questions of purpose can corner you. Have I done enough to help others? This is especially true when you hear of grand things others have done for the betterment of all. You wonder if your work is really helping others. Even in retirement the question of greater purpose gnaws at you. Purpose can always be viewed grandly, but perhaps it can be found simply. The touchstone of the documentary “Road Runner” on Anthony Bourdain says a lot. That all the travel, food, found philosophy, and experiences Bourdain had were second to “Tony learning to be a better person.” Maybe this is the first step toward finding the purpose we seek. Being a better person helps us be more sensitive to others and in touch with the shared importance of dignity. Most of all, it helps us get beyond ourselves to be more observant of the world and its needs.  Needs that may be as simple as opening a door for someone, a kind word, listening, participating in a community meeting, rolling in ...

  They always cause me to pause. Marks on walls, pavement, and transit, all have something to say. I try to imagine art from them. How they were left there, could I use the renderings to paint. My camera comes out and there you have it. Another mark to pull at your wandering mind, to imagine, maybe create.  Perhaps it’s the randomness of them, how they break the perfectness of what is strived for in modernism and cities. All the while knowing they are the marks of our lives coming and going. Some are painted over, only to be marked again. Some aspire to a street art of their own, where intentions overcome the wildness.  I take the photographs home, play with them, get frustrated at times by what I thought I saw and didn’t. Still trying to pull the art from the mark. Sorting them out till one or two speak above the rest. Staying in my mind until art becomes…. Art Note: William Klein, the great street and fashion photographer who recently died was the first to paint fil...

  You find them in the corners of life, often left behind and alone. They can be people or just objects where you sense something happened. Like people they have stories to tell, testimony to make, but can’t except for the thoughts and images you give them. People always make the best witnesses. Still some are reluctant to share their experiences. Others shout them out and some think there are angles they can play. Some bottle them up, hiding in corners, unaware someone is watching, waiting to hear. Events cry out for witnesses. All want to give testimony. For some though there’s no one to listen…

Sometimes you learn things from relatives only after they have died. Ones your parents told you that you should get to know, but never did. All I really knew about Uncle Wes was he traveled the entire country as a salesman of small leather goods, men’s accessories like wallets and key chains. Ones he manufactured, selling them to variety, clothing, and hardware stores, mainly in small town America.  He and his wife Louis had a grand house on a hillside in Oakland where you could look out on the majesty of San Francisco’s skyline and the Bay bridge. In winter, Wes manufactured his products in the basement. Family rumor had it that Louis came from a monied family, the source of their wealth. My parents sent me there on school breaks to help him with manufacturing. The wondering imagination of a young boy looking out on what seemed like the whole world at the time. Even then, Wes would spin his tales of people he met on the road and wisdoms he learned. He took pride in fashioning thin...

  You find them in every state, small towns where the main engine of commerce has left, leaving empty storefronts and depressed times in their wake. These disinvested places seem left behind, apart for commerce, with little future evident. Many are attractive places with classic architecture and long standing residents who have weathered it all. You want to take these places in your arms and make them better, but how to make them sing and dance again can be elusive. Too often renewal efforts target the downtown areas of these places. Often not yielding the results wanted. Tearing down old classic buildings, attracting name brand big stores, and support for new subdivisions tied to downtown end up sputtering. They also can create gentrification that drives out long time low income residents. Surprisingly, the biggest asset these towns have is their stock of existing affordable housing. These small towns were once factory or mill towns. Ones built by the factory owner. They tend to b...