Day: May 4, 2012

This is the last photo I took of Izzy at Bedlam Farm, just before we took him to be put down, and looking at it, I think Izzy had been saying goodbye to me for some time. He had a virulent cancer that was just eating him up and the last night of his life, we sat together on the floor with his head in my lap. I stroked his head, talked and sang to him. This sweet and angelic soul was as affectionate and connected at the end as he had been for most of his wonderful life. I have happy to think of him buried in his garden, his favorite spot on the earth, apart from the ground near my feet.

In the last few months of his life, he had become Maria’s dog as well as mine. He spent most of his days in the Studio Barn. On the last day, it seemed so much that our powerful connection asserted itself again and we were looking for one another all the time.  How great a gift he gave me, entering my life, chasing sunsets with me, bringing his love and connection to people at the edge of life, then to Maria as well. I miss Izzy, every day.

I’m going to New York City Sunday, for several reasons.  Monday, I’m going to the Park Slope Gallery in Brooklyn to pick up a photo I bought from photographic genius George Forss. George and I have become good friends. He has been coming to the farm to take some pictures and I have learned a lot from talking to him and watching him. He is not only an artistic and mechanical genius, but a sweet and good man, generous and warm. We are hoping to have a joint photo show in the Fall.

Life has its own rythyms and purposes, as I am learning this year. I suppose I already knew it. Yesterday George was taken by ambulance  to Glens Falls Hospital and admitted to the Intensive Care Unit there. I am going to try and see him this afternoon. Lots of tests. When I talked to George a month or so about the digital age and its impact on photographers like him, he smiled, and said, “well, you know I am just played out.” George had no squawks about the decline of the kind of very specialized photography he did and does. I cannot imagine he could be very happy about people like me with their quick-thinking digital cameras. I take 100 shots for every one he attempts.George makes some of his own cameras and lenses, and everything he does is art and imagination.

He had the kindest things to say about my work. George’s work is famous and he has a permanent place in the history of photographic art. And I do not think you are played out, in any sense of the word, George. From talking with you, I’d say you are just warming up. Hope to see you this afternoon.