Maria and I finished our chores this morning, and we started walking towards the house. “Look at the bird on the chair,” said Maria, and we also saw Minnie the barn cat sitting at the base of the chair. We both wondered why the bird was sitting there, so close to us. Neither of us knew what kind of a bird it was.
I lifted my camera and we got close. I expected the bird to fly away any moment but it stayed still, Maria got close enough to touch it. She paused, and I took the photo. I thought two things: she (or he) must be sick and unable to fly, or she has a message from us from the angels. I thought the first idea was true, although I favored the second story.
The bird stayed still – I was hoping Minnie did not see her or that Flo was not around – and then, Maria reached her hand out to the bird, who suddenly flew up and away and onto a limb of the apple tree.
She went higher and higher until we could no longer see her. I am thinking of her still, wondering if she had a message for us, she behaved so strangely. I suppose I will never know, but the moment got into my head, I thought of it all day.
My Post Office Box – P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816 is a source of many treasures. Every day, I get messages from all over the country and parts of the world, written by the many people – I am surprised by how many – still take the trouble to sit down and write letters.
I check m P.O. Box every day, it is filled with love and surprises, sometimes even money. Today’s letters included one from Lisa, a self-described “cat lady” in central Ohio. She told me of her many cat dramas and also included this old post card she found, which showed a woman in a bathing suit, I think, cuddling up with with what looked like a border collie.
I don’t know what the post card shows or means, but I love it and have it in my office. It makes me smile. Thanks, Lisa. (My post office box is Jon Katz, c/lo P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.
I can’t imagine any point in my life where I might have considered taking a picture of the bathtub, a bathroom fixture, in the afternoon light by the curtained window and beneath the shower curtain. The light drew my eye, and it converged on all of these elements at once to create an image I thought was beautiful, and evocative.
I am broadening my idea of a photo all the time, photography has done that for me, helped me to see beauty and light in a different way. The way the light plays through the window and onto the humble bathtub paints a picture of it’s own, it evokes the rhythms of time and life. It evoked Hopper for me, although I doubt even he would have photographed a bathtub in the late afternoon sun. But perhaps he would have.
Rosemary has never looked like the other sheep to me, there is something dignified and vigilant about her. Even shorn, she seems like she is apart, watching but not fearful, regal but quiet. I see she is no longer afraid of me or my camera, she keeps a close watch on both of us.
Thanks to those of you who have supported my voluntary payment program and agreed to pay me for my work. You have made an enormous difference in my life, enabled me to continue to produce my blog in words and photos, helped pay for my photography, an expensive art, and also supported my writing and my life.
The voluntary payment program is simple, it asks that if you find my words and photography meaningful, useful, thought-provoking or entertaining, this is a way to keep my blog and my work going. It may be free to read, but it is not free to create.
All across the Internet, people are coming to understand that meaningful content costs money, and the people who produce it are entitled to be paid for their work.
I’ve created a number of different ways for you to contribute. You can send a check in any amount, small or large, to Bedlam Farm, P.O. Box 205 Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Or you can send a one-time payment of $75 per year, or payments of $10 or $5 a month if you prefer.
It is simple to subscribe, you just start your own account, only you can control your money, no money or financial information is stored on my blog or website, you can use Paypal or major credit cards. You can cancel your regular payments at any time, and you will be notified a week in advance before any annual subscription is to be renewed. Cancelling is easy
I should say that for your protection and my sanity, I have no control over your money, I can’t start a payment, raise or lower the amount, or cancel a payment. Only you can do that.
It takes many hours of every day to produce this blog on the level that I want, I can’t really afford to do it on my own.
Again, this is a voluntary support program. If you can’t afford it or don’t wish to do it, you are welcome here, and will continue to be welcome.
But if you wish the blog to continue to improve, grow and be well-maintained, I hope you will consider the voluntary payments, they make a big difference. Publishing has changed, and I am right out front of the new movement for authors to create a new and inter-active model for living and working. I am out there, and I hope you will climb out on the ladder with me.
The blog costs a lot of money to maintain and update and the photos you enjoy for free require expensive and well-maintained equipment. Publishing has changed, advances and royalties have sharply declined. I want to write books until I drop, but I want to make the journey to the new world of writers as well. The blog is my pathway.
The blog has become the centerpiece of my writing and creative work, but I need help in continuing to maintain this volume, and hopefully, quality of words and pictures.
I am simply asking to be paid for my work,in the same way you pay for food in a store, and just like I get paid for a book. The blog is my new book, my living memoir, the payment options are small. Please consider the payment program it if you can. If you can’t, I will never turn my back on you, as you have never walked away from me.
