an old writer and his words

  • DID YOU?

    Sitting on the chairin the photographer’s studiodid you ever pause to wonderthat day, the snow fallingoutside the papered-over windowskeeping the light whollywithin his control,how many lonely menmight keep your picture, youtheir imagined once loverwho left, who died, whogrew apart over time,on their mantle, coffeetable, nightstand, dresser.Did you even know youwould be framed countless timesin several…

    Lou Faber

  • PHOTOGRAPHER

    Photographers we know are struggling,the wedding business has dried up, dessicatedby the years of the pandemic, the tighteningof matrimonial cost belts, no doubt other reasons.Wedding photography is hard on both the coupleand those with fingers on the shutter button.I cannot remember by first wedding, the marriageitself thankfully fading as well with the freedomof time, the…

    Lou Faber

  • BLEEDING

    A violinist canlook at an Amatior a Guarnieriand hear a concerto. A birder hearsthe call of the songbirdand can describethe beauty of her plumage. A skilled photographerlooks through the viewfinderand tells a complete storywith one press of the shutter button. But it is the poetalone, staring at a blank page,who spills onto it joy and…

    Lou Faber

  • YOUNGER MAN BLUES

    Going through files of photosI occasionally see a younger manwho is someone I should know. He doesn’t appear often, and Iam fairly certain I was neverthe photographer whenthose photos were taken. He is rather short, often seemsto wear a hat, is otherwiserather nondescript. Still, I would like to talkto him, as I suspect we wouldagree…

    Lou Faber

  • THAT MOMENT

    There is always that moment when I stand stock-still, afraid to move, the poised camera a lead weight on my hands, arms emaciated hammocks dangling from shoulders inviting something that will not come into focus. The Great Blue heron, who is the sole focus of my attention, stares at me, or through or perhaps past…

    Lou Faber