Secondhand Surfer


Real Photographer?

10661717_653826504730895_3842677399764929265_oCan you tell us where you stand, on the debate, concerning the “real photographer”?

“I’d have to say, that is usually in the hot sun’.

This is a sticky page.

As administrator of this blog, I have tagged this page to make it my cover, until I decide to change it. I maintain a minimalist presence. My – who am I – and who I am not – was written in the embryonic stage, of this venture. It gives you an artistic synapses of Secondhand Surfer ~ unburdened by detail. That is the nature of this journal. It is the “essence” of.

My posts are photos and poems, opinions and confessions. At times I am cryptic, while at others, embarrassingly revealing.

The unexamined life is not worth living.

After thirteen years studying and pursuing a spiritual life, I chose to move beyond what I knew. I decided to Let Go, and leap forward into the unknown. I crossed the threshold of my front door, and began to navigate life, blindfold. Many years later, one day at a time, I continue surrendering to Providence. Read more…

Four Sisters

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We were all nervy with an unspoken anticipation. We were accelerating toward something and we didn’t know what.                                                     Geek Love – Katherine Dunn

It’s safe to say that they were moving towards the grave, these long-gone ancestors of mine. In 1962, speed had a different connotation. It was the pace of a powder blue Impala, crossing long, low bridges, over deep, dark waters, heading south to Orangedale. The glide of a push button Dodge Dart, maneuvering the Trout River Bridge. And a big, black-house Mercury, lumbering through the neighborhood, to pick up Nell, who inched her way down the stairs of a Riverside, garage apartment.

They knew the Rosary, moonshine, horses, men, speakeasys, the St. John’s River, The Jacksonville Zoo, Palmo Fish Camp, family gatherings and dinners, R & R whiskey, Timiquan Indian blackouts, and deadly fire on the Main St. Bridge.

They were welcomed by the Orange Park Garden Club, the Westside Saddle Club, and Our Lady of the Angels Catholic Church.

Time and family are ethereal. They sway in the oaks, their moss heavy, pulling toward the earth.

Rotars no longer ring. ~ Evergreen 389 ~ Now boxes talk, in silence. ~ OMG, lol ~ Real time is a reality that isn’t real.

Yet, we all move in the same direction, as those of old.

What do we know?

The Rosary, psychotropics, horses, men, honkey tonks, the St. John’s River, The Jacksonville Zoo, Ruth Chris Steak House, campgrounds, river fronts and beaches, red wine, “lawyers, guns and money”, and a deadly boating accident.

Who are we welcomed by?

Rogers Towers, Attorneys at Law, Fischer, Tousey, Leas and Ball, yet more attornies who protect family “wealth”, Jesse Summers, C.P.A., old time, rodeo, tax preparer and the magnanimous, McMenemy, our benevolent executor.

Time and family are extrasolar. The palms stretch towards the heavens, yet are burdened by the weight of their fronds.

The here and now is all we have.

I once e-mailed my three sisters, if you care more about me than you do money, please respond.

There was no reply.

The View

IMG_0043Life is all about ” how you see it.” Your personal view on things.

I walked yesterday morning to a spot, that I calculate daily, suspending the morning light; a stratum of pink and peach hues, that veil the mountains, boats and sea. This photo, in no way, exhibits the Holy Oneness I experience in this sector. Soon, I will try another angle.

I will love the light, because it shows me the Way. ~ me and Og

First Surf

The circle of life. Rafa is the one I’m passing this sport on to. Yes, I hired a coach for him. Carlos, from AllDREAMSURFSCHOOL. My hope is he will love it as much as I do. From the way it looks, I believe he does. Even though he doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Spanish (fluently) we share a language; the love of the ocean.


me and HarleyYou are beautiful and wonderfully made!

One Good Thing Leads To Another

Second Shooter

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI have had to re-think a few things. Such as what do I want out of my photography.

I know more ~ what I don’t want to do, than the opposite.

Los Pargos

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The first days of a very long journey.



As you sit, oceanside, at Andelina’s, you know Costa Rica. Family, happiness and health. That is what drew me to this country. I absorb the love here and feel honored to be apart of their lives.

A Sprinkle of Sadness

ScannedImage_165144I look at this photo and stare.

I’ve heard it’s ok to glance at the past – as we need to – to examine our life, enabling us to change and to grow. This photo makes me stare. Read more…

The Creation Story


I was going through old journals this morning. Hand written. Obviously back from the days when I use to draw. A long time ago.

Life has changed. People have changed.

Bocas del Toro is no longer the hidden spot that it once was.

I have been re-born 4908 times, since the day I did the skeletal drawing.

Each day a new beginning.

Each day a new creation.


No Facade

glen and karen aglen and karen

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